Talking to Strangers
by Iyeshana
Summary: In 1948, when there was nothing else left for her to do, Alice found herself breaking the most basic of rules. Following a whim, blindly walking into visions, had led her to a run-down diner. She was waiting for what visions told her would someday come...
1. The Wrong Rain

TALKING TO STRANGERS

_Dedicated to Emma, who 'hasn't read a Jalice'. Also dedicated to her because I always forget to dedicate my stories/chapters to her, and I forget to thank her for everything she's done. Right now I'm going to thank her for reading this first bit and liking it, and also for helping me with my other stories on late night ferry-boat rides. She knows what I mean. She has the nerve to graduate and leave me to fend for myself in the jungle known as our school! Just kidding. _

Chapter One: The Wrong Rain

It was a simple thrill for me. Call it what you will.

I'd say my life had been thrilling enough, but I don't remember it. Where my memory should be, where it always was, is only a faint blank space. Dark, clean slate.

Since I knew what would eventually happen, there were no risks. In this world, everything was already decided. Eminent, even. Fate was something I believed in, because I needed to believe in something. Once something was decided, fate took its course, and the future came.

The risk I was taking wasn't something anyone would find frightening. Maybe your parents have told you to be wary of talking to strangers. I had no fear of this, knowing what the future would hold. Still, I saw this man in my visions, my future, and I held onto every picture.

I couldn't tell much about him by the vision. He was tall, much taller than me, with golden hair. Beautiful, definitely. He was alone, one of my kind, with those obsidian irises I knew so well.

I couldn't tell much about him, but I could tell that he was a permanent fixture in my future. No matter how far ahead I tried to look, it always stopped with him. If I didn't find him, somehow there would be no future.

And he would be here. Someday.

There was no way I could give up hope, not before I found him. He would be wary when he came, tired, lonely, and I would be the one to fix him. That knowledge came from instinct, not the visions.

Every night I waited, expecting him at the door. It wasn't going to be tonight, not by the way the sky looked. When it turned charcoal, and thick with fresh rain, that's when he would come. Still, I stared out of the window.

Philadelphia.

Something led me here other than its name on a map. I didn't normally chase my visions like this. Well, who knew what I _normally _did? Anything before this vision was cloudy, to me. Perhaps it was very much like me to chase visions.

I wouldn't really know...

I focused on the sky, dim as it always was when I came out, and cursed quietly. Unlike what I'd been waiting for, the sky was still dry and bare, even cloudless. Was it possible for one sky to be so absent of light?

It had been many years since I escaped. Newspaper headlines on the counter had told me this morning that it was 1948, but I had never read the paper before. Could I even trust the date?

I didn't grow weary, no matter how long I wandered. I couldn't physically be weary, anyway, but mentally I was still the same. Being weary would keep me from this goal, the only thing I had to go by at this point. Wherever Philadelphia was, so far from where I left, weariness didn't matter here.

The buildings were tall, austere, grand, and... a distraction. I really did want to walk out of the diner, up to the shopwindows to stare, but it wasn't quite worth it for me. Someone out there was every day getting closer, and he would not be near here. No, this may look like the place, but he would be in a more rural part of town.

The pictures began to move as I thought of that, and more intensely than before. The colours amused me, cheered me, until I saw his face. As always, this man looked the way I did. Weary, thirsty, and alone. More than that, he needed me. As long as these pictures moved, he was on his way. And as I began to realize, much nearer than I expected.

I could call visions predictable, since they _did _predict, but they weren't always easy to follow. Now, for instance, as I knew he was coming, but didn't know where. There was only so much I did know. The dim lights in the building, the counter, the stools, and the faces around him which were considerably more upbeat than his. But the things I didn't know far outweighed those. I didn't know what street, what part of town he was in. For that matter, I didn't even really know he _was_ in Philadelphia. Instinct was enough for me to care about, though.

Whatever was going on in my head, it was about to come true. Just not tonight.

..–..–..–..

"Darling? Do you need someplace to stay?" The woman behind the counter pressed her finger into my elbow, and was shocked by how hard my skin was.

I hadn't realized that I had lost control of my visions so thoroughly. Sometimes I became so absorbed that I forgot where I was. Or looked like I was very tired, in this case.

I steadied myself on the palm of my hand, and looked up at her. Her dark ponytail swayed forward as she eagerly awaited my response. Obviously, a response was required since I'd been in another state of consciousness on her counter. Not something you see everyday.

"No, I'm fine-" I looked at her name-tag- "Kacy." I warily smiled. The grin felt natural on my face, and I missed smiling. Suddenly the grin spread over my entire face and I chuckled. Silently at first, and then turning into solid, outright giggling. This was going to be harder to explain.

"Actually Kacy..." I stood up from the stool and jumped in place once. "I could use your help. Are there any other diners in this area?"

She looked at me strangely. Now I was a strange _foreigner _who didn't know her way around the city _and _broke into random fits of laughter.

"Plenty," She said. Her voice was of one talking to a child. Not that I never got that. "Try the Rittenhouse Square area. It's close."

I looked down. It would be harder for me to find the guy in my visions than I thought. Was he trying to be so difficult to track down? I thought with enhanced abilities, I'd be able to find him quicker, but-

"Honey? Tell you what," Kacy smiled wide at me, "Since you're such a sweetheart, I'll make you a cup of coffee. When you figure out what you want, I'll point you in the right direction. Deal?"

I looked at her outstretched hand, and her offer of 'coffee'. That would be harder to get out of my stomach. Impossible to explain, too. And her hand would likely reject mine if I actually shook that. It was funny that she wasn't intimidated by me, already.

"No thanks," I said quickly, my voice squeaking a little. "I think I know the way."

_Rittenhouse Square, Rittenhouse Square, Rittenhouse Square..._ I repeated the title in my head like a mantra. It was the only thing to hold onto at this point, besides the picture of him in my head. I had to hope that by the time I got there, he'd be there, too.

..–..–..–..

I was blinking from all the lights, trying to keep my stride steady. The shops and store windows shined brightly in the moonlight, too, as brightly as they had for days. Vividly flashing in the distance were neon lights that immediately caught my eye. And I recognized it.

If I had a heart, a real heart, it would have skipped a beat. The other part of my heart, the part that could feel something, throbbed dully. I knew I was imagining the pain, the pleasure that came with it, but I felt alive. The light ran into my eyes and my memories.

_I was looking through a foggy rectangle of glass, a window, and he was walking across the wet pavement. He shook his head a little when the rain touched it, each time, like it was an annoyance. His hair darkened in the rain, and flattened against his skull. Strangely, in the moonlight, his skin looked paler than mine. And more beautiful than ever. _

I shuddered. The tingle in my stomach now felt like a tiny insect fluttering just below my skin. That wasn't physically possible. But the image of him had left me immobilised to the point where I could only stare at the sign which flashed hideously in my direction. Even ugly, it made my stomach flutter.

_DINER_ the sign read, but the lights had dimmed so that it looked more like _DIE. _It struck me as funny, cute even, if it didn't scare me so much. Some sweet little Asian tourists would probably take pictures of that.

As I thought of this it didn't even occur to me that I should go _inside _the little diner. The door had a little bell on it that rung when I opened the door. That made me a little happier, but what didn't make me happy at this moment? All I ever wanted was about to come true.

The paint was chipping off the walls, and the smooth tiled counter-tops were turned up in the corners. The floor was covered in a thin layer of dirt, grime that I longed to sweep away. I had to push back the urge to come back with a mop in hand. Even with all the dirt, the diner felt like some sort of paradise.

The girl at this diner stayed crouched behind the counter like she thought I was going to mug her. Her green eyes were squinted, like I was so bright that she couldn't look directly at me. I checked for the sunlight, praying that my skin wasn't glittering like the imitation crystal cake-plate on the counter.

I smiled, waved my hand a little, and she loosened. Walking over to her, I straightened on tiptoe so I could see her more clearly.

"Hello!" My voice rang a little bit loudly. She fell backward into a chair and started holding her breath. I didn't understand what had come over her at this point, and I was a little shocked.

She opened her mouth, and no sound came out. I took that as my cue to speak. "This is a very lovely place. I need somewhere to stay for a while, just until...I find someone. I'll just stay here, thank you very much, and mind my own business."

"Yeah, that's fine. Anything." She ran her words together, and I stiffened. Was she really that afraid of me? Or was it broad intimidation that had left her motionless? Whichever, I didn't mind her hospitality.

She gripped her hands tightly on the cash register, and for a second I caught my reflection in the mirror. But it couldn't be me. Not like that. I'd assumed I looked different, more composed with more refined features. Neater, tidier. My hair was sticking off in odd angles where it had started to grow back from...something. Instead of the pale face I imagined, mine was streaked with dark brown dirt. Trailing from my left cheek to my right, across my lips, was a thin stream of dried red blood.

Obviously I hadn't gotten rid of my hunting evidence so thoroughly.

I didn't notice that she'd already gotten out from behind the counter until I heard the little bell ring again. It shook violently, and so did the doorframe. I was alone, in this diner, with flickering flourescent lights and napkin dispensers for company.

Boredom has a way of taking hold. And so does obsessive compulsive disorder, though I managed to rein that one in.

The salt to pepper ratio was surprisingly high. I had to empty almost half of the salt shaker before it matched the other. Then I spent an hour thinking of what to do with the leftover salt before I just put it outside on the sidewalk.

I hoped no one would come in and ask for a milkshake or something to eat. What then? Would I smile, make my best effort to serve them, and pass it off like another innocent happening? I don't think I could do that...

I cleaned the place up as best as I could. Given how much time I had to do it, it wasn't my best. The problem was, every time it started to rain I would go to the window and stare. It would always sadden me, since the rain wasn't the same as in the vision. The random drops of rain were vastly different from the dark sheets of rain that would bring him. And when I realized that, I would go back to whatever I'd been doing before, distracted.

Days passed, so many that I didn't even know what to do with them. Nobody came to the diner, probably after rumour of the 'Dangerous Criminal' I'd read about in the paper. Surprisingly, I never even considered that it might be me.

Nothing told me that he would be coming. Maybe he'd changed his mind. Of course, the visions told me that he hadn't, that he _would _seek refuge here soon enough. Only, how could I be patient when I knew what was about to happen? Maybe I was in the wrong place, after all. Maybe I was wrong about everything.

Or maybe this was the one thing I'd finally done right. Following a vast instinct, one that could not be defined simply, was something I'd needed to do long ago. Sometimes, you needed to follow that feeling, no matter what. And despite everything, I held onto that one point. It was a time like that when my optimism was truly tested.

But every morning, when the sun came out without gray clouds to subdue it, my forbearance was tested again. The clarity I needed was not one that could be provided with the sun shining. I needed the heavens to open up, and the rain to pour.

It became clear that it would not happen that day.

..–..–..–..

I couldn't believe my eyes when I looked out the window this time. No, it wasn't him, and that disappointed me more than who it was. The white and black car had _POLICE_ on its side, and that made me worry. Not that the police could hurt me or anything, but they could do something to prevent _him_ from coming to the diner.

I closed my eyes tightly, but even behind my lids I could see the front lights of the car blaring in through the window. White, bright lights that tweaked something painful in my memory...and just as quickly vanished.

I turned on the lights in the room -better to make myself look less threatening- and checked my face in the mirror. Everything was set. Everything but my smile.

He had a gun out. That was never good. I shut off the lights again.

The door slammed against the wall with apparent force, and the man walked in. Even in the dim light I could see the grim features of his face. He didn't want to kill anyone tonight. Still, it wasn't worth risking my current ownership of the cute little establishment, was it?

He gulped loudly, almost walking into the counter as he stumbled into the room. The officer didn't know where the light switch was. "He-hello? I want you to surrender. The-the police are taking care of this building now. Hello? Are you? AHHH!!"

The word was not really "ahh". More of a choked out scream. Because brilliantly, I'd devised a plan. And since I knew what was going to happen, I knew it would work.

The flourescent light I held under my chin was more than a prop. Even attached to the ceiling, dangling on a cord ready to snap, it was proof of how our kind could frighten the living daylights out of any person.

I knew from experimentation that lights had an odd way of reacting with my skin. The normal crystal surface would glint in the sunlight, sure, but would also send beams of bright artificial lights dancing around any dark room. Partying had an advantage sometimes.

As I moved the light around my body, my skin turned a blue-white colour. That was a new reaction that I mentally noted. A reaction that had a considerable effect on the Cop -sorry, _policeman_- as well.

I couldn't see him in the dim lighting, only pieces of his that were now illuminated by small portions of light. His expression, as far as I could tell, was scared, and that pleased me. When he opened his mouth, only a few words came out. They were stuttered comically.

"You're a...a...g-g-host!" As he said it, the realization dawned on his face, and mine. He was truly afraid of me, thought me a monster.

I grinned with relief as his flashlight slammed into the tiled floor, batteries rolling around and plastic going into pieces. As the car sped away, I knew I would have the place to myself for a while.

The satisfaction I had was at that moment ruined by the tenses. Was everyone truly afraid of me, and what I had become? I had thought that some people would appreciate the softer side of me, the side that could smile, that remembered how. But, as always, when I was committed to a task, that was it.

For a simple task, I'd become a monster. Just to wait, wait for him, I'd do anything.

My current task was waiting, and I accepted it as a grim fate.

..–..–..–..

_AN: This story is going to be one of my summer projects. This is only the introduction_, _to show a few of Alice's visions, and the diner. Not too plot heavy, but necessary. I guarantee that Alice will not be alone in the next chapter. Some people will want to see the famous 'ghost'! _

_And for you Jasper fans(like me), he'll be in the next chapter, I'm almost positive. _

_Thanks for reading, and I'd absolutely love some feedback. _


	2. Ascension

_AN: Super-huge thanks to Emma who practically beta'd this whole chapter. I loved the encouragement, and her almost yelling at me to finish the chapter. Godsh, I didn't even think I was going to finish!_

Chapter Two: Ascension

I was sort of becoming a novelty. People would come to the diner specifically to see me. If they could come at all. Even as a novelty, I was very feared. The ghost, the apparition that they thought me to be was something of a novelty, but not of friendship.

I was clean, had bought some new clothing, and was now doing everything in my power to convince them that I wasn't some kind of spirit. Really, I was a blood drinker, which seemed to be quite a bit worse that being a ghost, but I couldn't tell them that.

Some girls always came to talk to me, because they wanted to hear all about why I was a ghost. They thought that spirits would only stay in the world if they had unfinished business, and that's why I was here. More importantly, they wanted to know what they could do to help me ascend to heaven. Right.

I clearly remember the day when the tall man in a suit got out of his car and walked into the diner, pulling glasses out of his pocket. All sophistication and nice manners, he calmly walked to the counter, addressing me as if I was the owner. But I was, wasn't I? This diner, now in perfectly good shape, now belonged to me.

"Good evening, miss," he said. "May I please have something to eat?"

I smiled a little, as did everyone else, pleased that he wasn't talking to me like I was a ghost. "You'd have to tell me what you wanted before I could get it."

He chuckled, and placed his order. "You have some quick wit, little girl."

I sighed a bit at that, but understood. He thought I was the daughter or younger sister of the _real _owner. But I really didn't mind being the diner girl, for once. Hardly anyone ate here but the children who thought I was a spirit.

He left a generous tip on the table, something I could use. His brown hair, combed back from his forehead, reminded me of a tight, well to-do business man. He could afford to tip well. And I could use the money to buy things I needed. More clothes, maybe, since I'd stolen too much and should actually purchase some.

I think that man may have liked me a bit, since he and his friends began to show up there some days. So I played the diner girl part, serving food and laughing at their jokes. Funny jokes that were easy to laugh at.

When the businessmen would leave, the younger generation would come and ask me about life as a spirit. I didn't correct them. For some strange reason, I really enjoyed the acting. It was fun to pretend I was some lost, lonely child. Since it wasn't so far from the truth, I could play the part well.

"But why are you on Earth, instead of up there?" she pointed to the tiled ceiling, and I looked up. It took a moment before I understood what she meant.

I laughed lightheartedly. The boy holding her arm shifted uncomfortably as I leaned on their table, settling into the booth seat. One piece of hair, longer than the rest, flipped at my sudden movement.

"Because I'm waiting for someone," I whispered, relieved to suddenly get it off my chest. Maybe it _was_ the reason. What better reason could there be for me surviving on my own this long?

They both leaned forward intently, and the older girl in the adjacent table turned around with her drink in her hand, straw clenched firmly between her teeth. They'd all been paying close attention, but it didn't worry me much.

"For who? For what?" her voice squeaked uncharacteristically.

"I don't remember what it was like before I became...a ghost." Those words didn't feel like a lie, being so close to the truth. It would have been harder to lie to such innocent faces. After all, they were the only ones who trusted me now. "But when I was given my new chance on Earth, after waking, I wanted to find a purpose. I think that's why I was chosen, over so many other souls."

"And then I saw him..." my voice drifted, and I could see him again in my mind. So clearly, a _perfect_ image. It would be so disappointing if this vision turned out to be a hallucination. "I know that nothing will be settled until I find him."

The girl across from me sighed, her face settling onto her hand. "Do you think he'll find you?" She asked quietly. "It's so_ romantic_..."

I gave her boyfriend an apologetic look. Things were going to turn out well for them, I could tell that much. Well, maybe. There were two possibilities. If he proposed soon, like he planned, she would most certainly say yes. But if he proposed _too _soon...

"I think so," I said dreamily. "He's the only thing I have to hope for..."

She was silent, and so was he. Her black hair fell thinly onto his shoulder, caressing his cheek. I couldn't help but smile at them. An impulse had developed inside of me. They _had _to be right for each other...They just _had _to.

But the floor wouldn't mop itself.

..–..–..–..

It didn't seem at all unusual the way they would look at me. Because I hadn't known anything different, so I had no higher expectations. I thought that maybe I should feel like an outsider, but I didn't. Actually, to the contrary, these people were very kind. It didn't really matter if they were being kind out of some sort of obligation, they were still being nice to me.

They all left in the nighttime, when they thought they should sleep. I couldn't sleep, so I busied myself with foolish tasks again, or stared out the window. It occurred to me, for the first time ever, that _he _might never come.

Would it even matter? The people who'd been visiting were just as good company as he good be. Some important part of me that processed thought rationally told me that. But the other part of me, the irrational part that processed visions as quickly as thoughts themselves, was utterly confused.

Here I was, clinging to something that might not even happen. Clinging to _someone _who might never touch my life the way I thought he would. And if he never came, I would still cling to him as if I knew him all my life. I would be so completely disappointed.

I knew that there was no other way. I had to wait for him, no matter what could happen. Most of all, I had to hope that he was as gentle as I thought he was, not the sort of person to betray my hopes. I had to wait for something that might never come, and I had to try to make the best of it. Once he came, it would all be worth it.

Outside the diner, the air was warm. The moonlight, shining through the clouds, illuminated everything eerily. And I remembered something else about the vision, something beyond my notice before. That, through the dark gray rain clouds, the _waxing gibbous moon_ had shone beautifully. The moon had illuminated his face and hair.

And the moon tonight was almost the same, so close to the thick gibbous of _that _night. Which meant that this was the time in the lunar cycle when he would come... of any month. It could be tomorrow, or it could be years away.

Then I began biding my time as well as I could.

..–..–..–..

It wasn't the next day, or the day after that he came. The moon had gone a full cycle, and he still wasn't near. Worse than ever, I _had _to keep waiting, because I knew he was coming. Every single day, the vision became clearer. Now it was a steady moving picture, and not as blurry as it had been. I even knew who would be in the diner with us when he came.

Regina and her boyfriend...Gabe would be there. They weren't here today, of course, because today was the day he was going to take her to the park and propose. And she'd say yes, of course, which I'd known for weeks. Today was the right day for them.

Abbie would be there, too. I liked her. She laughed a lot, and her hair always bounced when she spoke.

And the businessmen wouldn't be coming, but the one named Greg would. He sometimes came to talk, and he would be sitting by the window on that day.

But they weren't there now. Greg was, sitting with his newspaper and smiling at me every now and then. Sometimes he's ask for "Another coffee, please, miss." or tell me I was "lookin' pretty."

It was all too distracting.

It was about seven o'clock when the rain started to fall. The slow kind of drips that made me disappointed. The clouds were small, barely visible, and the sky turned very dark. Charcoal black by 8:11.

Regina and Gabe walked in, hand in hand, and sat in front of me at the counter. They were so excited to tell me all about the engagement, which I already knew everything about. I shrieked and giggled at appropriate moments, and smiled at shy Gabe who blushed a bit. It was too adorable how he ran his finger through her hair.

And suddenly, I gasped with shock. How much longer? Minutes? Seconds? Was he already outside the door, shaking the rain out of his hair?

"What's the matter, Ali-" the little bell on the door rang as Regina's lips were still forming the words. And...Abbie walked in, smiling and giving me a little wave.

I tried not to be let down, but it was very hard. I liked Abbie. A lot. But she wasn't exactly who I'd been expecting.

Feeling mildly guilty about ignoring everything they were talking about, I trained my eyes on the window across from me. The shock hit me again as I saw the _sheets _of rain pouring down outside the window. It was dark, but the moonlight from the growing moon lit up the pavement.

Wet, slick pavement. I shuddered at the distinct feeling of déjà-vu. For once, it was a welcome feeling. It was making me shiver happily.

I sat up on the highest stool so I could get a better look. I was looking through a foggy rectangle of glass, a window, and he was walking across the wet pavement. He shook his head a little when the rain touched it, each time, like it was an annoyance. His hair darkened in the rain, and flattened against his skull. The vision repeated itself, only this time it wasn't a vision. I knew that because in a vision you couldn't feel so excited that you wanted to jump and giggle and scream until someone submitted you to a hospital. In a vision you couldn't feel the happiest in your life.

As I'd expected, he was beautiful. More stunning than the vision gave him justice. And so much...taller in person. So much more shocked to see the look of recognition in my eyes as the door opened.

The wide grin the split my face was very out of character for me. Or was it? Maybe it was just the sort of expression people would expect to see on my face. I couldn't contain it as I hopped down to greet him. He looked...startled to say the least. A little bit frightened, but happy, too. It seemed that my grin had worn off on him.

My hands settled onto my waist, and I looked up at him. His eyes were a long way up to look.

"You've kept me waiting a long time," I said, before I could control myself. He would have no idea what I meant, of course, but he would understand the intent.

He didn't back up, but returned my sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

It was so sweet, the shyness, the way he bent his head in respect to me, despite my size. He seemed to understand what I was feeling, for once. The confusion, the bliss, the happiness I could now see for myself. I could see it all in his smile.

I had to reach up, to touch his hand, not even thinking before I did it. If I had hesitated, I might not have gotten the chance again. And he held it. Securely. Strangely. As if he knew how to hold it all along. As if he knew who _I _was, the same way that I'dknown who _he _was.

Even stranger was the way my heart fluttered, when it couldn't even beat. All that filled me now was the sound of his voice in my ears. The deeper voice, with an accent I'd never even heard before.

He was so different from how I'd expected, even though I'd seen him before. I couldn't have imagined the way he moved, stiff like someone who was in charge of things, not walking into a run-down diner. I couldn't have predicted the wide smile that spread across such a stiff face, either. Or how I cheered him, now, as if my happiness wasn't already enough.

It was like nothing I'd ever seen or felt before. Nothing I could remember, anyway.

Everyone was staring at us. Granted, there weren't many to stare, but those there did. Regina was trying not to look at us, but when she did there was a look of...jealousy in her eyes. Abbie was smiling shyly, and Gabe just as shyly as he clung to Regina's sweater. He looked at his new fiancée with a look of adoration in his eyes.

Then I heard the bell on the door ring as they all left, one by one. I didn't notice, since I hadn't truly looked away from him. Only to glance at everyone watching, and then look back.

They had missed the ascension, though. It seemed stupid, even to think it, but it felt as if I had already gone to heaven. And the same feeling melted from him, into me.

Somewhere, amidst the meeting that had surprised only him, he leaned over to whisper something to me. "They left us here?" he scrubbed a hand through his wet hair.

I couldn't quite say what I was thinking out loud. I hadn't had the same train of thought as him, obviously. Though I was sure that wasn't what he meant. I looked down. "I think it's the way you're looking at me...it's kind of strange."

He smiled a little. "Not really. It's _your _emotion that's making me feel this way."

"My...emotion?" I asked, still clasping his hand. Thankfully, he didn't let go.

"It's my...ability," he explained. It was slightly bizarre that he was trusting me like this. Still, what else was there for him to say. We were both here, and everything was fitting into place. "I can sense the things you're...feeling. The things everybody feels."

It felt to me that he was holding something back. Still, it wasn't really my place to ask. As soon as we knew each other better, I could bug him all I wanted.

"Aren't you going to enlighten me on how you knew I was coming?" he asked. It was hard for me to lie to him.

"No," I said. "I want to save that for later. What if we end up with nothing to talk about?"

He seemed to dread the idea.

"You're taller than I expected," I mumbled, trying to change the subject from awkward silence.

He laughed. It was a perfect bass sound, several octaves lower than mine. "You're smaller than anyone I could expect to meet."

I looked down. I'd been waiting not only for him, but for that kind of comment. Still, the way he said it, didn't make it seem so offensive. It was almost as if he _liked _me being short.

He raised my chin with his finger. It wasn't really too intimate a gesture between two who just met. We'd already held hands. Things were moving fast now, a blur, just like I knew they would.

"We sort of balance out, don't we?" He asked quietly. "I'm tall enough to counterbalance your lack of height. Though it looks better for a girl to be short. If I was the short one, it wouldn't balance so well."

I laughed. It was easy to laugh at his jokes, too. I could laugh at anything with him around.

"You going to be okay?" He asked again. "I've never seen anyone laugh quite like that."

"I'm going to be just fine," I said, with more enthusiasm than before. "But _you_ need to hunt."

..–..–..–..

_AN: And THAT'S chapter two! :) took me forever to write! Please review this, because I need to know where to improve, and if I'm doing a good job (No, I can't only trust you, Emma. You're BIASED). Thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter. You guys are spectacular!_

_Thanks to Jasper Whitlock-Hale, my favourite of the Cullens, who inspires me and my dominant Alice personality!_


	3. Flickers

_AN: Sorry this took so long to come out...It's been a little over two weeks. I don't have a good excuse, as much as I wish I did, because I was only busy with my piano/being lightheaded/doing summer related things. Sorry again, and I hope this is worth it! _:)

Chapter Three: Flickers

He was curious as to what I'd meant by 'hunt' when I brought us _outside _the city. I figured he was one of the blood-drinkers that fed off of humans. I'd never actually met one, but I'd heard of them in rumours. And I'd also been one, a few years ago. But it terrified me. The way the original diner girl had feared me reminded me of the countless men and women I'd led away. Into alleys, unoccupied parts of town. Street corners. Nowhere far. But I'd only hunt them in the open on the rainy days, when I knew their blood would wash away with the rain.

I'd always hated it, though. The way they would fear me, before I stalked them down. Or worse, the _trust _in their eyes. It disturbed me that they could trust their killer, just because she was a 'little girl'.

That was why I'd given it up. The delicacy that humans were, I couldn't get past the horrific feeling that coursed through me. It was as if every sip of blood lit me on fire. I see their futures, decided or undecided, and everything they were meant to do. A woman who was meant to marry, or a man who was meant to start a new job. A homeless man, meant for nothing at all, who still carried the hope for tomorrow. It was all very upsetting.

The animals were far from the same taste. They were...a little bit revolting in comparison. But, they were preferable. Anything to prevent me from stopping another future. Anything to keep me from snapping another thread that was someone's fate.

"Who do you hunt?" He asked me warily. He meant to ask me what class of people, or what type of person. Or what gender, ethnicity, race... I wondered what _his _preference was, if he had one.

I treated the question differently, shooting a smile in his direction. "Small game. Deer, if I'm lucky."

His eyes widened, questioningly. It clearly wasn't what he had expected. It verified what he was, that he drank from humans. Was that so bad, though? If he did it, then I could. If he wanted me to drink people, I would. For him.

"You drink from animals?" His words were carefully spaced, each separated distinctly. "How does that work?"

Had this never occurred to him before? Maybe he'd never thought of an alternative to the horrible state of being all members of our kind had to be. It wasn't so far-fetched that I was the only one to develop a conscience.

"The same way. You feed from them, but more frequently." I smiled at him. "And I'm almost as strong as a vampire who feeds on humans."

He tightened grip on my hand, the grip he'd never loosened. He was smiling back at me, raising his eyebrows at the comment. "Almost as strong," he whispered. "I would like you to show me how you feed."

That struck me as odd for a second, but I could see it in his future. He would hunt animals, now, since he'd decided it. The future was very clear, which was funny since I'd barely known him for a couple hours.

"I will," I agreed suddenly, "But I want you to tell me your name first."

"I'm Jasper Whitlock," he said slowly. "But I'm a little more interested in who you are."

"Alice," I blurted out automatically. I hadn't stopped to think it through. But really, I'd already put so much trust in this man, that a little more could not possibly hurt me. He had no immediate plans for my demise, at least, or none that he'd decided on.

"It's a pleasure to formerly meet you, ma'am," he said earnestly. "I would shake hands, but you've kind of got me in a death grip." he held up our intertwined fingers in front of my face. I'd thought that he was gripping my hand tightly, not the other way around. Clearly, I'd thought wrong.

"Your grip's pretty hard, too." I looked at our fingers, quickly looking away as he met my gaze. His eyes made me feel even more wary than his fingers did. If this was it, now, if he planned to kill me or something...was it possible that I'd die searching for his fingers? This vampire who drank from humans that I knew nothing about made me feel a little bit strange. A_ lot _strange.

I could trust him, by his eyes and smile. That's why I knew I _couldn't _trust him. Because what I felt right now meant that I shouldn't trust my instincts at all. He was powerful, he had an influence over me. It would be so _easy _for me to die in his arms, by his hand.

"You're scared," he said automatically, his eyes moving from the surrounding trees to my face again. It was so funny the way he looked at my face. Most people looked over the top of my head.

"I am," I agreed.

"Why?" he asked, and I stopped abruptly. Spreading from his hand into mine, slowing my breathing, was a beautiful calm feeling. Out of place, it still felt wonderful. It had been so long since I felt anything like that. How long, exactly, had it been since I had felt _calm_?

He smiled, relieved. "Do you feel better now?"

I nodded with enthusiasm, a smile on the border of my lips. That smile turned into an_ o _shape when the breath was knocked out of me. He had pulled me into an embrace, so tight I could hardly move. When he realized this, he pulled away a bit, letting me fall loosely into his arms. For a second, I forgot that just a moment ago I'd been so tense. Because right at that moment, I felt very complete. Very well put-together.

I guessed that he felt the same completion. Because his eyes, as dark with thirst as they were, shone brightly. And even when he looked somewhere else, it still seemed that he was looking at me. His gaze always surrounded me, and never truly went away.

Attentive and alert as a herd of deer approached, he remained glued to my side. Really, I might have been glued to his. Did it honestly matter, now?

"Ready?" I asked him. The herd was close, now. As they moved to where human eyes could see, I could hear the blood of the animals thudding in a steady rhythm, growing faster as they ran.

And as we met them he squeezed my hand before warily looking at me. I launched forward and he followed my lead.

The deer calmed as I had, beneath his touch. He soothed them as he killed them. And unwillingly, unrelentingly, they could not move against the way he made them feel. In fact, if he had turned on me, I was calm enough that I would have happily greeted his move.

But even now, as our hands separated and we turned onto our kills, I felt no immediate danger. Even if I wasn't calm, I wouldn't have felt it. It was Jasper, and though I might know nothing about him, I knew that he was meant for me. That was enough to placate me now, and maybe forever. Maybe even longer.

In fact, I didn't doubt it. I could see it those same trusting, careful, sympathetic eyes, now a beautiful shade between gold and red. His eyes were glinted with sparks of light.

..–..–..–..

Flickers. Little pictures blinking, moving, running past my eyes at a constant rate. They grew more tangible, moving more quickly until the pictures ran together like a film reel.

_The diner girl, the one who'd been scared of me, was moving onto a busy street. Not just any street, a street corner, a few minutes from where we were...The night sky was very bright, almost a full-moon. Her caramel hair was matted, whipping in the wind. Her face was glistening with sweat. And her expression, which I hadn't noticed until that moment, was one of distinct fear._

_She glanced behind her as she waited for a car to pass. It crawled by slowly, and her eyes widened. Her mouth opened slowly, until it was oval shaped, her lips pursed so that her teeth were hidden behind them._

_As soon as the car passed, she bolted across the street, and the white shape behind her shifted into a run. Faster than she could move, it caught up with her, slamming her into the pavement. She shivered, convulsing as the shape bent over her. Blood, dripped steadily from her tanned neck after her shoulders finally slumped._

_When my eyes moved from her, I saw the white shape as it moved toward me. It was Jasper, his eyes red and wide, glancing around, crazed. He was searching the street for more blood. More like her. His lips were twisted into an expression I'd never seen. Guilt, and pleasure, mixed together in an impossible fashion. Greed. _

"Alice?" Jasper's gentle voice, twinged with panic, broke me from the reverie. "What's happening?"

"I...well...I saw something. I saw you." I whispered it unconvincingly to him, not being able to meet his gaze. Could I run, now? Could I be away from him when I _wanted _to be with him?

"Of course you saw me," he said, his voice thick with confusion. "I'm right here."

"No, it was...it was different. My talent." I knew that my explanation might only spark more confusion than before. I'd never tried to explain it to anyone, and with good reason.

When he didn't respond, I turned my gaze away and continued talking. Maybe it would make _some _sense to him. "I see...images...pictures...things that haven't happened yet. And the closer it gets to happening, it's less blurry, more solid. Sometimes it plays like a movie, but sometimes it's only a flicker."

He nodded in understanding. "You are...distrustful. In me?" His voice was stiff and quiet.

I shook my head. "Not in you. I don't trust my visions anymore."

"What did you see?" he asked. It sounded as if he was afraid of the answer, but facing it with strength.

"I saw you...and you were drinking from a human." my voice was lower, and breaking.

"I wouldn't do that, Alice." He looked down to look in my eyes. "Not since you said I could work against it. I can restrain it, if it's what you need me to do."

What I needed. Did he really understand that? He'd already made the decision to go to the street corner. And she would be there. As he met her there, he would kill her.

I shifted on the park bench. "I just need you to _try_," I said anxiously. "I need you to put some trust in your restrain. I don't think you would kill her."

He flinched. No doubt he was now thinking of how he _would _kill her. He didn't know how hard it was for me, too. I had control, but not infinitely. The sweet, throbbing, gushing...I couldn't bring myself to think it. Blood was hard to avoid, trying to live like a human. Because I_ wasn't _human. But I could try to live like one, and he could, too.

"I don't want to," he murmured, "but that doesn't mean I won't."

I felt his defeated eyes, but couldn't look away from him. The second that I did, I saw _her. _The diner girl, the one who I had seen die just minutes before. She was already dead, and I knew it. But then I saw the flicker again.

Focusing, I closed my eyes. The flicker grew stronger, until it looked even more real than the park had before my eyelids had fluttered.

_The diner girl, the one who'd been scared of me, was moving onto a busy street. Not just any street, a street corner, seconds from where we were. .The night sky was very bright, almost a full-moon. Her caramel hair was matted, whipping in the wind. But her face was shining brightly as she turned on me, mouth widening. Her expression was one of surprise, not panic. And her lips slowly curled into a smile as she waited for the car to pass._

I couldn't tell him what I had seen. He'd think about it, then, and turn his eyes to the street. And if he did, she would die. This new vision was because of a decision I'd made before consciously deciding it. When I'd closed my eyes, Jasper had pulled me closer to him, thinking that my calm was from his touch rather than the vision.

I turned, not realizing that his face was inches from mine. I gasped when I looked directly into his eyes, leaning backward. And then I knew what decision I'd already made.

I took a deep breath, and he moved uncomfortably on the seat. I didn't have much time now. One second, maybe two until he looked past me and saw the girl on the street. If he hadn't smelled her already.

And then, responding to what I'd been feeling, he stirred. His hand, which had been holding mine, moved to my back. It was drawing me toward him. The next thing I felt were my eyes closing, and not like before from the vision. The darkness behind my lids was different than that of night, comforting. I liked it. I expected our lips to meet, but it was still a shock. My eyes shot open, and his did too. I guess that he sensed my anxiety, and also the happiness that followed as I realized that he'd kissed me.

I laughed, giddy. Embarassed, too. He only looked at me, making sure that I was truly feeling what he'd suspected. I confirmed his thoughts, leaning forward with a little more exuberance. Because I needed to distract him, I told myself, but it wasn't true. I was kissing him because I wanted to, and it had nothing to do with the girl on the street.

I didn't break away, not for a long time, I did open one eye, though, and saw the diner girl. Her expression was one of surprise, not panic, as she stared at us. And her lips slowly curled into a smile as she waited for the car to pass.

And the distraction worked, for a moment. Just enough time for me to hold him back. One moment for me to put my hands on his wrists and turn his head from her.

"Hold your breath," I commanded, and he complied. He swallowed venom, choking out a strangled sound. When I realized he was speaking, I asked him to repeat himself. He climbed off of the bench, and I breathed hard.

"What is that...that tender aroma?" His voice was less like a choke, then, and more like a caress. His eyes darkened, and he leaned forward. I put my hands on his back to pull him toward me, and his gaze from her.

"Jasper, we need to go now." I said. "We can go hunt again, if you want. Anything."

He pried his eyes from the source of the scent to look at me. "No."

And that's when I felt the strength of his grip against mine. I struggled against it, pushing my feet into the ground. The wet soil shifted, and he was starting to pull me.

"Please Jasper," I looked at him. And the way he looked back made me notice the thick sound of her heart thudding. She was across the street now, not even seeing us. She was quick, but she was slower than he could be.

The growl wasn't anything like his soft, solacing voice. "I _want _to taste her." his throat rumbled.

"But you don't want to kill her, right?" He turned to look at me, the light slowly returning to his eyes, but only a tiny piece of light. It was enough, maybe.

She was further away now, out of human sight, but not out of his sight, and I knew that. I felt his hands clench once while he held mine, and the stutter in his dead lungs as he held his breath.

I pulled him with me to the woods then, against his hold. Constantly looking behind himself, at her, he looked more like an animal. But I trusted that he could hold back, now.

"Let me go," he moaned, struggling still.

"But you said you'd _try, _Jasper." It was my faintest argument, and I knew it would mean nothing to anyone else. Yet I saw that it would mean something to _him_. "And if you do this, I don't know if I can stay with you. It's a temptation for me, too. And you're unearthing the bloodlust inside me."

It was a lie, and a complete hyperbole. Yes, when he looked at the girl like he wanted her, it brought the blood lust inside me. The problem was that I could handle it. Even if he killed her now, I could put up with it, to stand beside him.

He finally looked like he was listening when he turned on me, then. Flecks of gold returning to his eyes, he turned to spit more venom on the ground. "Help me, Alice," he begged. Not the stiff officer, a... a man. Humble, unsure... and I knew I could help him, no matter what.

The clear acid still dripped from his tongue, onto his lips, trickling down his chin and falling to the ground slowly like thick syrup. I swallowed hard on the venom now coating my teeth.

I tried to ignore the desire to prey on the human, knowing it would make things worse for him. I imagined him feeling my desire while he tried to ignore his own, understanding that it would be twice as bad.

"Can you run this way?" I requested, gesturing back the way we came. Past the park were woods, miles of woods, where we could hunt. Where he could be free to feel that need to drink the blood, and not have to worry about who would fall victim.

"I'm not..." he sighed. "Not thirsty." He looked as if he was just gaining this information for the first time. "She makes me thirsty, but.." he swallowed hard. "I just drank this...this morning."

"That's right, Jasper," I whispered, trying to copy his soothing tone. It seemed to work splendidly. He settled into a walk beside me, a slow, human pace, and then a faster clip, and then a full run. I soothed knowing that it would be a while before he could get back to her, especially without me seeing it in advance.

The park was a long way away, now. And so was she.

..–..–..–..

_AN: Was that good? I'd really appreciate a review, especially letting me know of any huge mistakes/anything I did really well. This is my first Jasper/Alice fic, and I really like it! If you do, be sure to let me know. _

_Thanks for reading, again, and be sure to check my profile and livejournal (__www.iyeshana.__ I'd like to have you as a friend! _:D_) for any updates._


	4. Pretty Little Crescent Moons

_AN: This chapter is almost entirely dialogue, but it was very necessary. There's some description, too, and I feel like this was one of the best chapters I've written for fanfiction so far. I __**hope **__I'm not wrong..._

Chapter Four: Pretty Little Crescent-Moons

"Aren't you going to ask about it?" I was startled to hear his voice on such a quiet afternoon. We'd been spending time outside of the city, hunting often, trying to dissuade him from his old lust. Human blood was tainting him, plaguing him like a former lover. He trusted me to take him away from the sickness he was feeling.

"About what?" I was truly confused. If I could ask any question, it would be why he seemed to enjoy holding my hand so much. The emotional climate I seemed to have, that he always told me about, was not one I knew existed. Because I had never been this happy–he made me this way.

"This," he whispered, raising my hand until it was stretched to the limit. I could barely feel the outline on his skin, the one he was tracing with my narrow fingers. Thin scars, standing out noticeably now, after my fingers had felt them. They were placed in a pattern across his skin, intricate in the pallor, like the difference between petals and the surface of water.

I had never noticed them. Not really. I was too busy looking at his eyes, still fading to the gold they would eventually become. When I wasn't looking at his eyes, I would stare at his stern smile. The corners of his mouth would turn a little, until a tiny ridge formed next to it. Almost a dimple, but not quite. And when I wasn't looking at his eyes or smile, I was looking at his impossible height, his grace, his straight back, his long hair. The way the blonde waves would shine all the time, even in the darkness. Actually, in the moonlight they glowed more beautifully, like spun gold.

"I wasn't going to ask," I explained, when I noticed that he was staring quizzically at me, "because I hadn't noticed."

"_Everyone _notices those scars," he said in a slightly confrontational tone.

I suddenly felt inadequate. Apparently, I had missed something that _everyone _noticed. I was wrong for not noticing something important that many people before me had seen. Strangely, I had missed a detail of his beautiful face. That was jarring to me.

"You haven't done anything wrong," he whispered soothingly. "It's just that you are the first person not to mention it immediately. I was almost looking forward to telling you about the horrors of my past..." he laughed mirthlessly.

"You can tell me, if you want." I wondered if my voice shook, or if it changed pitch. My opinion of him couldn't change, ridiculous as it seemed. I wouldn't have shuddered if he had told me that he drank only from newborn babies. It would have been startling, but I might even have tried.

"How about you go first," he offered. "It's only kind of me to let you go first."

My eyebrow creased. Did I truly understand what he was asking? He was talking about the horrors of his past, when my life had none. It had _nothing, _really. My life was just that: nothing. Since I felt my life beginning –in a way I didn't even understand– I had begun the search for him. There were no horrors. Nothing I knew of.

"You are confused...," he muttered. "I meant to ask you to tell your story. How you were changed, if you don't mind. I won't press the matter if it troubles you."

"Changed?" I asked, suddenly feeling like a fool. I had already missed the scars, and now I had no idea what he was talking about. Was it something only the kind who drank from humans knew of? Or was I hopelessly naïve about this, once again? Too hopeless for him.

"You don't..." His tongue clicked a little. It would have been a stutter if he was human. "Do you not remember anything?"

"What am I supposed to remember?" My voice faltered a little. I was weak. Missing little things. Perhaps the visions were making up for all the things I lacked. Pictures of the future instead of the past.

"Not a lot," he said, and I could hear the honesty ring with the words. But underneath that honesty I could sense the tiny bit he wasn't telling me. Not a lie, a deception.

"What is it?" I suddenly felt afraid. "What am I missing, Jasper? Is there something wrong with me?"

The last question was not necessary to ask. If I hadn't felt inadequate before, I certainly felt it now. The worst was that he would have felt that I was not only inadequate, now, there was also something wrong with me. What I had thought was common I now knew to be false.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you," He said, and I could not detect a false note in his voice. "But do you not remember your _human _life at all?" He paused cautiously, standing as if waiting for a gust of wind. No, like he was _smelling _the air. _Tasting _it.

My breath, however unnecessary, hitched. It paused for a moment, when I forgot to smell, to breath. His words truly took me by surprise. It may seem ridiculous, but I never thought of myself as ever being human. Not a _former _human, and not ever having a human life. I didn't remember ever being human, so I hadn't considered it. Still, the gaps in memory, and the holes where things confused me...these were easily explained by his obscure question. My human life.

"No," I whispered. Did I remember? Was I human somewhere along the way?

"Uncertainty," he breathed. I was not meant to hear it, for sure.

But I _did _remember something. The blackness, and the true uncertainty of years before the visions leading me to Jasper. When there was nothing to lead me, and nowhere to go, there was no point to living. I remembered wanting to die.

"You cannot do that to yourself," he said firmly.

"Excuse me?" It was sometimes easier knowing that he could feel my emotions, and sometimes harder. Usually only harder when I myself didn't know what I was feeling.

"You cannot harm yourself," he whispered. "How could you want to die when you are such a beautiful, kind...sensitive, thoughtful creature?"

At first I didn't understand. I hadn't been thinking about killing myself, I'd been remembering the time when I had wanted to kill myself. Not to kill myself, but to beg for release. It wasn't an option now, or even a desire. Jasper had filled the inside of me where it was once dark.

Yet I still could not respond to his statement. I felt overwhelmed by him suddenly. His words, always sensitive in his smooth voice, made me think about what I had to say. At the same time, I had nothing _to _say. What could I say, which would be a suitable reply? He had called me beautiful. He had called me kind, sensitive, thoughtful, and..._beautiful. _

The exact same moment that I realized it would be impossible to answer, I also realized that there was a tight yet soft grasp already around me. His arms, impossibly long, had been reaching in my direction, and, without thinking I had wound into them. His comforting grasp turned tentative as he finally understood. I didn't _need _his comfort now. I only wanted it.

"Alice, you are a mystery." His words were true in a few different ways. My life -existence, whatever you would call it- was unknown and mysterious. Apparently I'd had a human life, too, according to what he was telling me. The biggest mystery of all was the reason why I would believe everything that came out of his lips, even if I knew it was a lie. He had that power over me, for sure. And _I'd _thought he could only control emotions.

But I could say the same about him. What was he doing, wandering into my life without much of an explanation? And the scars, which I'd never noticed before, danced in little patterns all over his cheeks and neck. His arms and legs, too. I guessed that he thought they were flaws. How foolish of him.

"You're a mystery, too," I said, my voice pirouetting in the upper octave. "Where'd you get the scars? Pretty little crescent-moons." They were pretty. Maybe I would have to start paying more attention to the moon, if Jasper resembled it.

He smirked a little, cheeks dimpling. I'd never seen a cheek dimple like that before. One of his half-moon scars was smiling, too, just crossing the spot. I wished there was a better word for the scar, since it wasn't an offensive blemish. It made me notice the way his cheeks creased in the grin.

As if realizing my question, his dimple disappeared. His smile did, too, of course, but I wasn't staring at it. Suddenly, when it was gone, I wished for the reappearance of the lily-white round teeth along with the dimples. Along with the light in his eyes. His eyelashes dropped downward.

"You wouldn't find them pretty if you knew where they came from," he said. "I don't know why you find them pretty at all, actually."

He was _very _pretty. And handsome, and beautiful. I could use all the words he'd used to describe me, and more. Because he was also stronger than me, in the physical sense. He understood his surroundings better, too. He was fine-tuned to everything, and I wasn't. I was just Alice, but he was _Jasper. _And he didn't understand anything about himself at all.

"Won't you tell me?" I asked quietly. Not meaning to pry, of course, but simply out of curiosity. It was a problem I had, when I didn't know what I was about to say, but I just said it. "Tell me about where you came from. Do you remember being human? I never thought I was supposed to remember..."

"Maybe I'm the one who's screwed up," he said, his face also screwing up with the syllables. "Maybe I was supposed to forget."

So it was horrible, then. I couldn't imagine him ever going through something terrible. How could someone who looked and acted like him every experience something bad? It didn't make sense at all. I suddenly wished that I could take my words back.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I said, a little bit too quickly. I hoped he _would _tell me, in his way. If only through his way of showing emotions to me. Maybe then there could be the trust in him that I'd believed in since the beginning. Only days ago. Time didn't matter.

I halted in the middle of the woods and sat on a rock. He sat too, following my lead. I liked the idea more than I should. It was the kind of crazy idea I usually held.

"I don't mind telling you, Alice..." he stopped abruptly. "Actually, I do mind. I don't remember much of humanity, except for the end. And it wasn't very _human _at all. It's not the sort of story I'd like to tell you. It's just that... I don't want to scare you."

The only thing I was scared of was my devotion to him. Even though I knew it would somehow work between us, it was still a little bit crazy. He could never throw me off this path. Not with one hundred _thousand _scary stories.

"I don't mind being scared!" I protested. "Scary stories are sometimes the best!"

He reached down to ruffle the hair on the top of my head, and I sighed. I certainly _sounded _vexed, which is what I was going for. Truthfully, I don't think he could ever truly make me angry, or even frustrated.

He sighed, too. It was a sigh of resignation. I sensed a bit of determination, too. Almost as if I was the one with the power to feel his emotions. Maybe I was as in tune with him as he was with me.

"Oh, Alice. Little Alice." I couldn't tell if he was saying it like a brother to a sister, or a father to a daughter. It didn't sound like either. What _did _it sound like? "If there is one person I can lose an argument with, it'll be you. If we ever get in an argument."

He flashed his teeth, and then sighed again. "Are you sure you want to know?"

I nodded rapidly, an action of eagerness. The eagerness I was _eager _to feel, having never felt it before him. He sensed the excitement.

"The story starts when I was born," he began, "but I don't remember much of that. I do remember the _conflict, _though. Everywhere I went, and everything I did, there would always be someone or something against it. It was like the world was vibrating at a speed no one could handle. I could feel the vibrations shaking the world. Every mother, son, daughter, man, woman, grandfather. They were all contributing to the constant motion."

I nodded, trying to understand. It was what Jasper felt every moment of every slowly passing day. I moved closer to him, finding a way to lean on him while I sat on the rock. My body truly couldn't feel comfortable or uncomfortable, not when it was frozen like this. Yet the emotion flowing through me was _very_ comfortable.

One nod from me, and he hesitantly continued with his life story. It was a lot longer than mine, but it had gaps. My memory was one huge gap, while his only had smaller holes missing. We weren't so different after all.

He smiled at the sudden change in my emotion. Reluctant happiness. It was the sort of feeling that took me by surprise. Jasper, the tall blonde, had something in common with me. As unbelievable as it was, I knew that this time I saw the right thing coming. Jasper was the right thing.

"I first realized that I was sensitive when I heard my parents arguing over things," he said. "I don't remember much. But I was overly-sensitive, and regretted it at the time. When you're young, you have no way of controlling those bigger than you. So I held my tongue as a good little boy does.

"My father prided himself on raising a good son. I was a good, social boy who seemed to understand society as well as him. That's what he always said, anyway, but now I know it was something else. I couldn't control the emotions of people around me, not then, but I had a definite advantage. When I was to be punished, people would look the other way. When I said a joke, they laughed. And if they cried, I lent them my shoulder. I didn't understand the empathy the way I do now.

I didn't want to interrupt, since his voice was so soothing. It was like the singing voice mothers would use to lull a child to sleep. "Where did you live?" I asked, wondering in honesty what place could have such a beautiful accent. He was already looking at me when he responded, not reluctant or upset at my interference.

"Texas," he said slowly, laughing a bit. "I was a military man for the Confederate Army. Or _boy, _I guess. I was only seventeen at the time."

Seventeen? He didn't look seventeen. Not that it mattered, but still. Maybe _I _was seventeen. Would there be a way to know? I wondered if he got his scars in the military, since it seemed to be the sort of mark that could only be left by one of our kind.

He laughed again, and I thrilled at the sound. I wanted to make him laugh every moment of every day, just to hear the sound. "A question, Alice?"

"I was just wondering if that was where you got them," I said, not as quietly as him. My voice sounded shocked and confused. "The scars, I mean. Were you harmed in the military?"

"Yes," he began again, "and no. It was during other battles. Not the human ones, the vampire ones. The sort of battles that don't happen during the daytime. Vampire battles are a hundred times more dangerous than the little skirmishes humans would get into." He made a little noise of irritation.

"The rest of the story's a little bit darker," he whispered, "And I'm not sure if I should tell it. You might...Well, you might not let me ever tell you a story again. I have so many other, better stories to tell you."

"But this story is about who you are and where you come from," I reasoned. "It's more important than any _other _stories you could tell me." I was curious as to if this was the end of the story. I didn't want him to stop telling it, when it meant so much to me. I had nothing to compensate with, since my past was empty and colourless.

"I suppose you're right. If I'm going to tell anyone, it's going to have to be you." He was not as shy as he first seemed, all smiles and jokes. The darker part of his tale was coming, and it would not be the same as the first.

"With all my empathy -or _charisma, _as Father tended to call it- I was a very popular boy. Making friends was not a problem, but that wasn't it, either. I also made friends with the officers in charge of recruitment. They let me in, when I pretended I was twenty. That was only one example of my charisma getting me further in life.

"Again and again, the talent, unapparent at the time, would get me through the ranks. Maybe it was talent, but it was quite impossible. Someone as young and new to the military as me, a major."

My eyes widened a little bit. Major Jasper Whitlock. It sounded very nice, certainly, and it fit his appearance. It also fit the way he moved, with the stiffness. Everything was coming together. "You were twenty, then? When you...changed?" I still didn't understand the meaning of the word.

"Yes, I was," He smiled. "You're a quick learner."

I frowned as his expression turned grin. He couldn't be lighthearted at this part of the story.

"The night I was changed is the night I remember most vividly of all. There were these three...women just standing in the middle of the path I was riding on. They were curious, beautiful women, looking quite lost. Being the gentleman I was, I decided to stop and offer them my assistance.

"They were so pale, almost glowing. Their skin was iridescent," he whispered, touching my fingers, "Just like yours. They were almost as beautiful, too. At the time, I thought they were the most beautiful thing my eyes would ever see. I was wrong, obviously.

My eyes shot downward in embarrassment. He couldn't possibly be thinking of me. I wasn't the type of woman that could be compared to a classic beauty this woman was. She was probably worthy of him looking at her that way. Usually I was only seen as a tiny girl.

He looked at me, a little more shyly than before. "Are you not beautiful? Are you not a thousand times what she is? I barely know you, but I know enough to know that she was evil and corrupt, and you are kind and sweet. Besides, you are far more beautiful. I wish I wasn't so shy..."

Shy? If anything, _I _felt shy now. Normally I was the blunt, audacious one. Now I felt like I was suddenly very quiet. If I had a working heart, it would be beating rather loudly. "Not shy, Jasper. You're a very good storyteller."

"Thank you," he said offhandedly. He was preparing himself for the rest he would have to tell. "They called me beautiful. They called me unique. They said I was young and strong. They said I was _compelling. _What they didn't say was how naive and exploitable I was about to become. Could military service prepare you for something like this?

"The one called Maria wanted to keep me. I didn't know what that meant, but I assumed it meant something else. Before I knew it I felt my skin prickle, cold shivers running up my back. There was something truly precarious about these women, my more reasonable mind warned. But I couldn't make my feet move. What would leaving do? Spare my life? I didn't feel a need to be afraid, despite what my intellect was telling me.

"She bent her head down, like this," he leaned his lips down, closing his eyes. I felt them touch my neck for a second, as cold shivers -which he'd just been talking about- flooded me. "But she didn't kiss me. She ended my life."

"How...," I started to say, but he drew his finger up to silence me.

"I'll get to that, I promise. It's all part of the story." The confusion passing through me was enough to force him to continue. "The venom we use to paralyze our prey can also create our kind. Usually, the vampires will drink the blood from the human, but sometimes they use the venom to make a companion. I was that companion.

"Maria created me because she thought I could be of assistance to her and her soldiers. I could be of assistance to her -being a former major with the power to control the emotional atmosphere- and she knew that. She exploited me, Alice."

I pretended to understand what he meant when he spoke of the change. It wasn't the most important part of the story, I was sure. The one named Maria, she must be the important part. I didn't like how he used the word 'exploited'. No one should take advantage of someone like him.

"I was not simple. Naive, maybe, but not simple. I understood that she was abusing my abilities, and I didn't care much at all. I felt an obligation to her, since she was the one who brought me into all this. It seemed exciting, and made me feel powerful. While I was by her side, I felt like I owned everything.

"Some vampires form territories. Hunting grounds, I guess you could call them, or areas of control. She used me, and other newborns with knowledge of war, as soldiers in her own personal army. Maria wanted it all. There were rewards, too, the sort I was unable to imagine being so young. Wild as I was, Maria knew how to get what she wanted. Eventually, it started to scare me.

"But not before I revered her like some sort of goddess. I was in charge of the young ones, the uncontrollable ones. She _put _me there. Her life, the one I was forced into, was the only life I could imagine. The world of fear and hate was terrifying, but it was my only option.

"I tried to control the offspring she created, but they were too much to handle sometimes. The venom creates scars." The raised pattern of pale white moons seemed more prominent all of a sudden, and definitely more frightening. "I was hurt by them often, and hurt more by the fact that Maria didn't seem to notice. She may not have noticed at all.

"There were others who cared a little more, though. Peter and Charlotte, the only friends I had. It took them for me to realize that friendship is something that comes through respect and kindness, and not fear. Peter and Charlotte's relationship demonstrated my theory that love came through the same. It was clear then that Maria did not love me. While I had revered her, I had not _loved _her.

"They told me to walk away from her, leave it without thinking twice. I had to think about it, of course, but I was easily convinced. When you could feel the pure happiness they felt, it was easy to be brought to their side of the argument. Maria was my companion, but she had never given me more than Peter and Charlotte could.

"I felt the same as you about the humans, though. It wasn't simple for Peter and Charlotte, either, but it was simpl_er. _They could kill, could feed, and I could barely handle it. The blood ruled me, controlled my actions, but it did not control my conscience. I felt very depressed, almost nauseated, every time I had to feed."

He noted my solemn, possessed expression. I was so deeply haunted by his tale, and hadn't realized it until I saw his face. He thought that he upset me, when I was simply amazed by everything Jasper had overcome. Such hardship, more than I could imagine. Unless, of course, I had been through the same thing without knowing it.

"The story's over, Alice," he whispered, lifting his finger to my face. He was being tentative. Shy Jasper was coming back, showing through the cracks. When the story had been reality for him, he had not been the same person. He had not been thoughtful, he had been reckless. And I didn't hold it against him.

"It can't be over," I said, the smile entering my voice. "You're still around. There's a reason you survived it, we just haven't figured it out yet. If I can just look ahead a little bit, I'm sure I'll see what–"

He silenced me with his soft stare, and I felt the calm rush through me. "I know why I survived," he whispered. "There was someone I hadn't met yet..."

He might have had an influence over my emotions, but right then I couldn't have felt happier. A scary story, one without an ending, but one with the potential to end better than anyone else's. I took it upon myself to burn the pages of his past, and try to create a beautiful future for him. One that Maria couldn't have created. One that I would have dreamed about, if I ever could have dreamed.

"What is that?" I wondered aloud. I couldn't even try to be embarrassed anymore. "What am I feeling right now?"

"The same as me," he marvelled. "Hope."

..–..–..–..

_AN: I had trouble deciding on the last lines, but I eventually just chose the couple lines about hope. It seemed to fit with the mood... My favourite part about writing this was reading what Jasper told Bella in Eclipse and thinking about what he would have told Alice. I had to put myself in Jasper's shoes to tell everyone what I thought his past was like._

_Jasper was so cute in this chapter that I actually fell in love with him all over again! _

_It's really important that I get some feedback for this chapter in the way of reviews. I feel that Jasper's story is very vital, and if I did it poorly I need to rewrite it. If you were satisfied/dissatisfied, I really want you to tell me. _

_I felt like I did a good job, but hey, I'm biased. Please review. It's appreciated, trust me. :) (And thanks for the C2 adds! You people make me so happy! tear)_


	5. Grace and Spontaneity

_AN: This chapter is dedicated to my new favourite Alice and Jasper song: Bliss by Muse. __"Everything about you is how I'd want to be/Your __freedom comes naturally/Everything about you is enate happiness/Now I won't settle for less"_._ I'm compiling a playlist for them, and this was the first song I chose. Do you like it? _

Chapter Five: Grace and Spontaneity

We had been wandering for some time. Days, however long it may have been, in the woods nearby. It was easier this way. Barely any wandering humans to tempt Jasper, and plenty of animals to hunt.

He had told me so much about himself. Always hesitant, waiting for approval before continuing. Jasper didn't like talking much, and that was okay. I was slightly afraid that he would ask me about myself, and that I would have nothing to tell. I preferred silence over the awkward, misused words that I could potentially say.

"Anxious?" he asked, after quite a bit of time. He said it in a way that made me believe he didn't want any answer.

When I didn't answer, he took it as a confirmation. "I intimidate you." It was a statement, not a question. He always thought that things were the way he understood them to be, rather than the way they actually were. I suppose, when you've had so much time to interpret emotion, you assumed you knew all interpretations.

That wasn't what I had been thinking about at all. It wasn't he who had intimidated me, but the figures from his past. I had been hearing about Maria, Peter, Charlotte, the newborns which had 'ruined' his features, as he seemed to call it. They had put him through the worst, in many ways, excluding Peter and Charlotte. He spoke very highly of _them_.

"I knew I shouldn't have told you those stories," he scolded himself. "Anyone in their right mind would be terrified right about now."

"Are you calling me insane?" I teased.

His mouth opened and his eyes widened, abashed. "No, I would never...Not call a... a _lady _insane_. _I can feel it, though. You're quite uneasy, and you weren't before." His hand pressed gently into mine, and I sighed. It was perfectly clear who had missed the other's hand more.

"I was thinking about the ones who did this to you. The one called Maria." I didn't want to use specifics, afraid of offending him. But if he wanted to know... "You never seemed angry at _her_, certainly. Just at what had happened. Even when it seemed to be her fault, towards the end of the story you still spoke almost fondly of her."

My answer surprised him, as all my answers did. He wasn't used to being unable to predict the response of another individual–or not to this extent. I don't know if it was my answer, but my expression. My blithesome attitude, clairvoyance aside, was enough to pull him straight from the war-zone he was used to.

He took a moment to consider what he should say. There were the obvious reactions, and then there was the _Jasper _reaction.

"Maria is one that I think of from time to time. I wonder if she's still alive, or if the others have finished her. She and I did not have a bond, but where bonds were difficult to find we formed a relationship of sorts. Not a love, as I've said, but a company formed out of convenience on her part. If she _could _have been a true companion –If she could have ceased to use me the way she did– I would have stayed with her. At least until I could find a permanent solution to killing humans." He looked not at me, but _past _me, to where companionship was not measured through like and dislike, but through survival.

The elated –constantly euphoric– part of me stopped working for that moment. Each of his words had registered perfectly in my head until that last sentence. _At least until I could find a permanent solution to killing humans. _

It hit me, like a punch to the stomach. A punch to a _human _stomach, or a punch by Jasper's fist. That's all I was to him: a solution. Perhaps a permanent one, but a solution all the same. It wasn't an attachment he had for me, but some sort of quick fix. I made it easier for him to refrain from killing, but that was all. His future was forever with me, but not in the way I'd hoped.

The emotion I could not place was apparently one he was familiar with. "Alice, I didn't mean that. She is... a monster. We were like-minded people, her and I. Monsters are suited to being with monsters." He inhaled deeply, sensing the anger flaming deep within me. For once, he did not try to comfort or reassure.

I understood. I was not enough of a monster for him. Hmm. If a monster was what he wanted, I would deliver.

He backed up, a little more than scared by my sudden wrath. Still, being a former major, he had a lot of military training. Not that there were any moves I couldn't see coming.

I closed my eyes and watched his movements a second in advance. He moved to the right to dodge me, and I followed. Each move I mirrored, staying in front of him. It startled me that he didn't truly want to hurt me. Still, it would have pleased me more without the earlier comment.

Before he knew what was coming, I shifted my movements until I was behind him. He crouched defensively, and I sprung onto his back.

Cracking a smile, and then laughing, he put his hands under my legs and started walking. Jasper was _carrying _me. I found myself trying not to laugh along with him as he held me, although I pounded my fists on his back.

"If this was a real fight, Jazz, I would have killed you by now!" My breath was at his throat, to demonstrate.

He raised his eyebrows, twisting his neck to look at me. "_Jazz_? I should have expected something like that from you." His laugh was no longer forced. It sounded sweet, yet still bitter at the same time. A mixture of his past and his present. His _future. _Like when humans would talk about the sugar in their coffee, I was very happy about the sweetness in him.

"It just sort of fit, you know. I was calling you Jazz in my head for a while...Every now and then."

"Just trying to change things up?" He laughed, and then threw his back forwards with a lunge. He caught me before I fell, as if I needed someone to catch me. Honestly, some people were beyond frustrating. Even if they were that cute when they let themselves laugh.

"Of course! Spontaneity is often the victor. And I only side with the victors." He probably knew this already. Spontaneity was the only loophole to my visions, and hence the only way to win. Otherwise, how would anyone beat me? That thought made me laugh again.

He laughed with me, and I marvelled at the sound. Despite my laugh being so high, his nearly echoed mine. To closer ears listening, and to closer eyes watching, we would always match in the way opposites did.

"A victor? Alice, who else are you trying to _win _over? There's no one here but you and me." He pulled me tighter against his back to emphasize. As if someone needed to remind me.

"Well there's my family, you see..."

He wrenched me from my back as soon as I said the word. "Your _former _family, or your current family? Our kind does not have _families._" He clicked his tongue at the idea.

I opened my mouth in mock surprise. "Why, Jazz, I am _shocked _with you. Here I was thinking we were a family, and then you mean to tell me that you don't believe in the concept of _family?_" The last was only half a joke. Really, I was quite offended that he didn't have the same concept of relationships that I did. If humans could have mothers and fathers, and sisters and brothers, why couldn't we?

He didn't answer me. The _Jasper _response.

"This family is our future family. We are going to have a mother and a father, and two brothers, and a beautiful sister! And they are going to _love _us, Jazz. Not just use you like Maria did." It was in the distant future, but it was going to happen. But only if Jasper cooperated like I hoped he would.

He scratched his head. It wasn't a normal vampire reaction. Normally our kind was very still, to the extreme that it made humans uncomfortable. It was odd for him, being so straight-backed to have such an awkward, practiced movement of habit.

"Precognitive. Right." He pulled me over so that he was holding both my hands. Looking down –way down– into my eyes, he whispered, "I've had a hard enough time getting used to _you._"

When I gave him a skeptical look, he laughed a bit. Strangely enough, he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "Okay, so there was no adjustment. You are an extremely odd case, Alice." He lightly touched his lips to my forehead, and I closed my eyes. "No other vampires are going to take to me the way you seem to have. It's idiotic."

I laughed a high trill, starting to move towards a pack of animals headed this way. Though I wasn't showing it, I was disgusted that any mere _animal _was able to distract me from my Jasper. "Don't you know that I'm just a really idiotic girl? These are the things I do best!"

"That's not what I meant, Alice. And you know it. That's why you can't keep that grin off your face." He kissed my cheek, right next to the grin. It was very...indulgent. And I loved it.

I sighed, very frustrated, still not able to stop grinning. "Then I'll just have to prove to you how lovely and accepting _our _family is!"

He nodded too seriously, knowing my significant use of the word _our. _Like all was understood at last, he held me in an embrace that would mean nothing to anyone but me. Meaningful or not, I didn't care if anyone else saw anything in the gesture. It didn't matter to me, and it didn't matter at _all _to him.

Our situation, unconventional to the point where it became ridiculous, was more than most people would ever find in their lives. There was definitely a bond there, to an unknown extent. He could feel how I felt, and I could see how he _would _feel. If I could see it, he must have decided how he felt. So therefore, once again, my spontaneous thoughts and actions were victorious!

Jasper didn't pull away, exactly, he just loosened his iron hold. "Triumph? What did you win this time? I still didn't agree with you."

"There are other things I can win besides arguments." This was yet another case where I was very pleased that I could see what hadn't happened yet. As soon as I'd decided what I was about to do, I saw the way he would react in return. It was stable and complete. So clear. I was absolutely enamoured not just with the joy, but the way he gave the joy _to _me.

Jasper was enamoured to share it with me.

The moment our lips met –had it been my decision? I hadn't expected it...– I felt myself lift off the ground. I had sprung, unknowingly, into his arms. It wasn't in haste, but in comfort. Almost humorously, I thought of the distance he'd had to bend to reach me.

And the happiness –Oh, the happiness!– was enough to lift me off the ground, without his arms. It felt as if it was being doubled. My happiness and his, thrown into me in a near violent manner. Or could this kind of elation fit into one being? This time the kiss wasn't an involuntary response. We had _chosen _it. I could see that much, now.

The single kiss and its embrace was subtle. Quick enough to be missed by human eyes. He just held me now, in his arms, and I could feel the lack of air between us. There was no space between the two of us, only the heavy feeling of the caress from one moment ago. It hung in the air thicker than oxygen.

"Jasper _Whitlock_, I do believe you have some explaining to do." I said his name like a mother would do a child she was chastising. He needed to berating, not that I thought of him as my child.

He looked down, away from my line of sight. "I suppose I do. There is one _other _part of my ability I have yet to explain."

"The part that's making me feel like this?" As if I didn't enjoy the elation that lifted me higher.

"You already felt like that," he teased. "It's just that I did, too..."

I squinted my eyes in anger, attempting to show how mad I was. Until, that is, I realized that I was clinging onto his arms in what he called the 'death grip'. "Enlighten me."

"This time was an accident, you must understand. I never let _my _emotion out. It was a mistake, ma'am." he winked at me. "You caught me off-guard!"

This completely frustrated me. Not only did he know what I was feeling, he could also _change _it. How was that fair? Clairvoyance still topped it, though. I had convinced myself of its superiority.

And then I realized that this was just another moment of triumph. _I _made _Jasper _let his guard down! _I _made him lose control of his ability! It was remarkable that I, little Alice, could have such an effect on hard, stiff, Jasper.

He nodded, smiling as he did so yet again. "I think I know what you were trying to win, now."

"What ever are you talking about, major?" I copied his slight southern intonation nearly perfectly, but he still raised an eyebrow.

He didn't even need to pick me up, since I was already in his arms. The world spun as he spun me, and I giggled pretentiously along with his quieter bass. If his guard ever came up again, so help me, I would...I would... not _hurt _him. I wasn't capable of that. I would be extremely irritated, and he would have to live with every moment of my unstable emotion.

Each smile he gave me didn't cease to amaze. When I thought of how he'd looked when I first saw him –tired, creasing his eyebrows in chartless anguish– it was a nearly bruising memory. The comparison was impossible to make, now. His smile was creasing his cheeks, making me smile in return.

The moments when he wasn't smiling at me his eyelids would open fully and entirely, exposing the fading sun. Dark, almost black, they were hinted with tints of light from the last hunt. Not quite the colour I expected.

Jasper noticed my staring, since he looked downward to meet my gaze. His lips twitched in awkward surprise. "What's the matter?" He set me down, raising a hand to cover the side of his face as if his appearance bothered me. The only thing that bothered me was his expression now.

I didn't answer, but pulled him to a nearby pool of water where he could see his reflection. I let myself down on my knees, drawing him down with me. The two of us leaned over the edge, gaping in wordless response.

His eyes were so beautiful. No longer red, not liquid fire...not pulsating blood. The irises weren't ink-black, either, like when they'd first met mind. They weren't quite gold, either, but they were so close. Similar to the last stage of a sunrise, they glowed warm and sparkled hazily.

Extending a finger, he touched the reflection of his eyes. The ripple sent across the surface of the water and ruined the perfect vision which was his face. My jaw clenched together as I thought of the image he had of himself, as opposed to the visions I saw of him and the good he would be.

He was already so good for me.

His shirt rustled as he leaned back onto the grass. I pulled myself around, sitting cross-legged, watching as the sun hit his face. It made the crescent moons on his cheeks look like they were dancing as they sparkled.

Then he closed his eyes, and I found myself tugging at the corners and willing them to open. Past the lids were the more beautiful, new colour. I'd waited so long for this vision, and he was ripping it from my grasp.

"What is it you want that my eyes have?" The words were spoken very slowly, quietly, under his breath. "Without knowing more than your smile I know what you see. Perfection, Alice. I feel as if I must correct the _impossible._"

My eyes began to sting. It was a new feeling that would have been crying for a mortal. "There is nothing impossible about this! You're nearly there, and I can see that! You've already chosen to follow this path, and you've nearly reached it!"

I realized I was shouting, so I lowered my tone. Instead of colouring my words with a touch, I merely touched his gaze with my own. "No matter what you think, Jazz, there is perfection in that. There is unwavering trust, and–"

He sighed softly. "Love does not mean perfection."

"I'm not asking you to be perfect. Not at all. I just want you to try." I smiled at the thought of his near seamless efforts this far, despite so much of it being with my help. I owed a lot to him, too. More than he could imagine.

I gasped, realizing that I was thinking rather than saying my words. "You've done so much more than I could even have asked for. No slip-ups. For a while you were barely thinking about it."

He shuddered, likely recalling the few moments he'd had of doubt in himself. Considering taking human lives had not been easy for me to remember either. Yet that was behind us, and nothing was more important than the future.

"Alice, I can't promise you much." His voice grew in solidarity. "But I _am _unwavering in my trust. I can promise that. But I need you there, to hold me back, and to push me forward. You always know what I need, every single _painstaking_ time I feel like I'm losing."

"You know I will always be here, Jazz. It's not an option for me anymore. Did you realize that you said _love, _just now?" It was hard to think of him saying 'love' without smiling.

He smiled, too, much to my delight. "Yes, I did realize it. I'd been saying it in my head for a while..."

"Just trying to change things up?" I remembered the earlier conversation with a start. My endearing name for him was now being used as a comparison to 'love', the most graceful of words.

"Yes," he said, a bit too softly for banter. "Spontaneity is often the victor. And I only side with the victors." I had been winning, hadn't I?

"I love you, too," I breathed. Not a declaration, since we both already knew the fact. Neither of us had to worry about winning or losing when we were both where we belonged: with each other. The obvious reason why I remembered no life before Jasper was that there was no life. Without him, there would be no life for me.

There was absolutely no reason why I should look into the future. Even as I did, he was with me. Our family, which was nearly as important. But most of all, he was with me. As long as I had my Jasper, Jazz, I would be winning.

..–..–..–..

_AN: As long as it took me to write this chapter, it was a very nice one. I wanted to show a bit more of Alice's character. Her enthusiasm, and how she never likes to lose. Still, I'd like to know what you thought. Please take a moment to review, and it will make my morning! You have no idea how awesome it is to read all of your thoughts, positive and negative._

_If you have seen any errors, or anything concerning canon, it is very important that you let me know. Besides that, I'd just _love _to know what you liked or didn't like about the chapter. Thanks for reading, once again._


	6. Silver and Gold

_AN: Thanks so much for all of the alerts and favourites. I really encourage you all to keep reading. You really have made writing this so much fun! This is the holiday chapter, so I'm hoping that all of you had a happy holiday. Consider this your present from me. _

Chapter Six: Silver and Gold

His hand felt different around mine. It was softer, somehow. Not from any sort of shock, really, but more from the materialization of the words, the events, before my eyes. Not a dream come true, but a reality that had already been chosen for us.

"Love does not mean perfection," he'd said. Still, he seemed perfect. He had resisted the human blood for so long—Long enough that his irises had begun to turn gold. I did not need him to be perfect, even if that's what he thought. I just needed him to stay strong. If he could have enough strength in himself to resist the grandest of temptations, then that was all I needed. He would be happier this way, I decided, if he could trust himself not to kill.

I had known he would say 'love'. Even before he'd decided, when I'd only known his face. There was no way you could see someone, be as awed by them as I was, and not have them love you back. Well, I had seen such a thing happen before, but I couldn't believe either Jasper or I would not say these words to each other. It seemed natural. A simple collection of syllables. I had heard little girls whisper that they loved a puppy, or red ribbons on presents. I had watched as men confessed they loved girls with hair that flowed down their backs. If they could say these things, could I not admit that he meant more to me than something commonplace?

The word meant less to me than it should. After all, it meant less than being able to trust someone with secrets like not remembering who you are, or where you came from. It meant less than talking about the scars which had prevented people from judging you by your character. How many people who whispered 'I love you' could truly say that they trusted them completely, in such a way that their life was of no consequence? Life was of no consequence to Jasper or I, now, since we were no longer living. Of course, we were alive enough to know the meaning of the word, and why we both had said it.

It was perhaps a while later when I fully understood the conflict Jasper was experiencing with his nature. We had moved to hunt closer to the town, although I was completely unsure of our location. I felt the sudden lifting of his hand as he let go of mine, and the way his gaze turned from me to the other side of the hunting ground. There was a small building there, I realized far too late, and he was already on his way toward it. A split-second decision, and now his teeth would be sliding into the human's throat.

It was some sort of lodging in the woods. A cabin, maybe, or even a private home. It was very isolated, anyway, not that I had time to think about it. I was already running after Jasper, as fast as I could. I wished he was human—that his legs could tire, that he could run out of air—but I could keep wishing for that as long as I wanted and it wasn't going to happen.

The front door was just a wooden frame with mosquito netting, and a more sturdy door was ajar inside of it. They were swinging with great effort, creaking ominously. I knew what to expect before I even entered the lodging, thought I didn't want to believe it. There was always time for him to stop himself. To think. To care. To understand. I had been telling him to consider the humans as if they were him or I. There was always time for him to—

His face was buried in her neck, hidden by a mane of wild gray hair. The wrinkled, weak skin and bones of the body were held in front of him, covering him like an old leather jacket. He looked up, his eyes wide without a trace of shame. They were deep crimson, the pupils obsidian and stretched wide. He threw the body to the panelled floor, and then bent down to finish his drink. Behind him was another larger body—A man, this time—more overweight with nearly white hair. He, too, was empty of blood. Jasper had drained them in just a moment.

"Jasper, please," I begged. It was quite strange, talking to him while his mouth gushed with blood. My throat felt dry, very parched suddenly. It was flickering with flames that grew by the instant. The more I opened my mouth to speak, the more difficult it became. I held my breath.

He didn't respond, of course. It was more than frustrating, it was infuriating. He knew how impatient I was. He must remember, even with his mouth full of blood, that I had been waiting a long time. And I didn't want to wait for him to decide that he wasn't a monster.

The sound that next came through his lips sounded like a groan. Of pleasure, displeasure, pain, or comfort I was not sure. I was not even sure if it was directed at my speaking, or at the liquid still trickling down his throat. He shouldn't be pleased, but I knew the feeling. It could be quite irresistible. To him, especially. I understood. But I could not stay here. Not with the sweet perfume enveloping my lungs as I gasped. The words I wanted to say were out of place here.

Was I to chastise him for his behaviour? Berate him, like a spaniel? Yet if I praised him, I could expect the same behaviour days from now. He was wrong–so wrong–but I didn't know what to say about it. The best thing was silence. Even so, I could feel sympathy coating me. If I stayed, he would hear the understanding in my voice.

My feet faltered as I ran away from him, revealing how I felt. An onlooker might see how I continued to glance behind me to see if he was following. I looked to see if he would ever follow me again.

..–..–..–..

I darted out of the forest and into the street, dazed by the streetlights, shopwindows and people passing me. After just catching the scent of the two people Jasper had killed, every one of these humans seemed tempting. I managed to remember the time when his face had kept me focused through all the temptation. There had been a time, as hard as it was to believe, when I had looked at his future and smiled. He had the most hope and promise out of the two of us. It was Jasper who was going to do good, and I was going to be so proud of him.

He still had so much promise. I was not blind to that. But I did not want to be blinded by the fact that he was remorseful, either. I could see his promises to me in each of my visions–promises I didn't know that he could keep.

Was it wrong that in this moment I realized how I wasn't really leaving him? I was just waiting for something, anything, to bring me back to the place where I felt complete again. Completely myself. I was disoriented without him around, contemplating how I managed to survive so many years without him. Maybe he felt the same nausea arising, ridding him of all organized thought.

The shopwindows were lined with twinkle lights that blinked chaotically. It was that, coupled with the slush around my feet, that reminded me what season it was. What season it had been this time, every year since I could remember. I had no idea why people were celebrating, but it was obvious there was a very important reason. I could only see the love in the eyes of couples who walked hand-in-hand, seeing only each other. It brought pangs of heightened pain inside of me.

I walked into a clothing store, moving directly to the back and opening the door to the washroom. It closed smoothly after I walked in, and I took in my surroundings. It was a small room, the mirror surrounded with painted white wood. The sink stand was made of clean, smooth stone.

I ran my hands under the hot water, scrubbing them until all the dirt was gone. One glance at my face revealed a ghastly image, so I avoided looking at it after that. My hair was slightly matted, so I combed my fingers through it the way Jasper sometimes did. Though impossible, I looked tired. A lost, wandering person incapable of finding the right direction.

The door shut smoothly, and I made it to the exit as quickly as I entered. A quick scan of the room revealed hundreds of outfits that couldn't ever make me look as if I was properly put together. It took only a moment before I realized that I had told Jasper to hang onto my money. All of it was stowed away carefully in his coat pocket, miles from here.

I bent my head as I left the store with a silver belt-buckle in my pocket. I don't know why I took it. There were a thousand things running through my mind, not a single one being compensation for the buckle.

"Aren't you cold?" a small voice asked. I hadn't even realized I was sitting on the bench, let alone next to a child. He was a boy of perhaps seven or eight years of age. His cheeks were rosy next to pale, curly hair.

I didn't answer him. I wasn't even sure he was speaking to me.

"You're not wearing a coat! And it's bitter out here," he continued. My look at him was extremely apologetic as I considered his words. The only thing bitter was the nausea, and that still hadn't gone away. I wondered if there was a name to this sickness, or if it was imaginary.

The child walked away, glancing back at me. All he could see was my long dress, ripped along the bottom, and tights riddled with holes. My arms were paler than the snow, but I fabricated bruises there with my mind–these were marks that showed everything I felt on the outside. Were humans so easily deceived? Couldn't they hear my screaming?

"I didn't mean to abuse you," _he _said, in a voice I couldn't imagine to be that perfect. Never. The Jasper in my fantasies could never speak in such honey tones. There was no imaginary hand on my shoulder that could feel like that. "I don't like hurting feelings beyond repair."

"You're..." I silenced myself with one look at his blushing eyes. Scarlet–wrong beyond all wrongs. _Not the same._

"I'm the same," he said, "I have the same feelings, the same wish." He didn't say what that wish was, but if it was the same one as before than I knew precisely what he was saying. He was always wishing that he could be enough.

He sat next to me, and I was conscious of his hand as it felt its way back into mine. Still soft–even stronger than I remembered. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feeling, opening them again

in an instant.

"I understand." His voice was barely more than a whisper. "I have done an unspeakable thing. It is simply not alright for you to have forgiven me so quickly, Alice."

"Forgiving you is my decision!" I said. He flinched, but looked back at me again. His eyes were locked on mine, cold as they were.

The painful expression on his face was one of inner conflict. As he spoke I began to trace hearts into the scarred skin of his hand, noticing when they began to tremble. "I came back to tell you that this is the last time I will do this to you."

I knew what he meant by _the last time. _His future was lonely, craving company. He would search for solutions, for guidance, but would find nothing. And he had decided that he would run from me until it killed him. Until it killed us both.

_Lie. _"I don't care if you listen to me or not," I said. "But you can't be alone. Promise me you'll find someone who can guide you better than I could."

His eyes widened. "Oh, no, Alice. No, Alice, no..."

I hated lying to him. It was painful to tell him I didn't care if he was with me, just for the sake of reverse psychology. Especially since I knew he would fall for it. Especially since he _always _fell for it.

"I swear," he whispered, "I'll do whatever it takes to change this future. We can be a part of that family you wanted, or just be alone. Two of us. _I won't run from this. _Not from you."

It was another of those moments where I found myself wondering if he could read my mind. If he knew that I had seen him run away from me, considering only the consequence for himself, and not for me. Was he thinking right now of the time when we'd kissed on a similar park bench, praying that he wouldn't kill a human girl. He'd killed me, kissing that way.

And then there had been the words I betrayed. When he'd called me his _permanent solution to killing humans. _It was more than possible that he wanted to look for a new solution. A new _me._

"Look at me," he said, a little louder. "It's not you that's inadequate, it's me! And if I hadn't been so damn greedy none of this would have happened. I can't apologize for my mistakes forever, and I _certainly _don't want to live an apology."

A gust of air hitched in my throat. "Then we won't make mistakes. I'll prevent them from happening. I swear."

He nodded, more resolute than agreeing. He pulled me into his lap and I felt the familiarity of it all. I thought that maybe he needed me, for once, or that he was truly showing it for the first time. The strange thing was that as he took my other hand in his, he began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" I asked, more irritated than truly upset.

"A...belt buckle?" his hand roamed over the shoplifting prize as he smiled with startled amusement. "When did you buy a _belt buckle_?"

I giggled a little bit. "Well I didn't _buy _it, exactly."

He was wide-eyed, pretending to be upset. "Why, Alice, did you _steal_ from a store during the season of giving?"

"The season of giving?" Sure, I'd heard these words before. But to hear them from his mouth made them even more foreign. Made me feel even less normal, not knowing what they meant.

He didn't laugh, but his mouth twitched into that familiar smile, pale pink lips and a slight glimpse of paler white teeth. "Ever heard of the holiday season? No? Um..holly or mistletoe? What about gift-giving?"

I nodded at the last. I had heard of that one. "Of course I've heard of that. Whenever you love someone, you give them gifts. It's a symbol of appreciation." I looked down, a bit embarrassed, but put the buckle all the way in his hand, anyway. "Like I'm giving this to you."

I replaced his old buckle with the new one, crunching the old metal between my fingers and discarding it by the side of the street.

He nodded like it was understood, but still seemed confused by the sentiment. "I'm afraid you don't know the meaning of Christmas." He squeezed my hand slightly, moving towards the crowd in the street. I wasn't sure if this was a good idea with him as unstable as he was. But he really seemed okay. He did.

Being bumped and pushed by the crowds around me, I had to fight to feel Jasper's hand at all. But there is was, the iron grip that was determined to put some meaning into my existence. Though he mightn't know it, he had already put meaning there just by being beside me. I watched his future, too, realizing that he was fighting so hard. As dangerous as he was, as much as he wanted to kill them, he hadn't made the decision yet. He was holding his breath.

There was a large department store by the roadside, surrounded by large trees and potted flowers. He pointed some of them out to me. "Poinsettia," he had said, "And a Christmas tree. That, hanging there above the door, is mistletoe." He laughed sharply, so I asked him what it was.

"Well of all the things to remember, this is something I do. From when I was a boy, you see." I was surprised to hear one of those random bursts of his southern accent. He was back in his childhood. "There was this girl who I was fond of when I was...thirteen, I think. They called her Marsha, but I'm not sure that was her name. I don't quite remember. There was this Christmas party my parents had for all their friends and their kids. So Marsha was there, of course, in her red dress, makeup all over her face, looking so pretty that she shocked my thirteen year old self.

"We headed out in the backyard to talk, but when we came back in the house my mother had put mistletoe over all the doors. I knew Marsha liked me, I could tell, but I didn't know if it was the gentleman thing to do, just kissing her the way my friends had kissed girls."

I giggled. _Of course _he was worried she wouldn't want him to kiss him. He should have been worried if she'd faint before he even made it to kissing.

He smiled at my laugh, since he always seemed to feel my happiness with his. "But when we got to the doorway, Marsha wouldn't go through. I said 'ladies first', and motioned for her to go ahead, and she just said, 'okay'. She had been the lady by kissing me before I could even consider it. She wasn't much of a lady, I suppose, but she was a very kind girl. She came to my door every Friday after that, making sure that I would kiss her with or without the mistletoe."

I realized now what I'd missed. All of these children outside the store were dreaming of the future. They'd decided they wanted to be nurses, take care of the kids they'd have, or just play with their toys, taking things day by day. I wondered what I'd dreamed of being when I was just a little girl, maybe wearing a red dress, maybe not. Maybe I had just dreamed of dress up, and paper dolls. What type of chocolate had been my favourite? Had I liked apple pies, or not? Was spinach really as bad as the children said it was, or would I have asked for more?

Had I even dreamed at all? I was probably always this way, dreamless, never remembering anything, never able to properly consider a situation.

"Alice?" I turned my head from the children, abandoning their dreams as I thought of mine. He was kissing me, and now I couldn't think at all. His lips moved slowly, and I craved their warmth. My lips were fast, feverish, and they didn't mix well with his. I tried to kiss him slowly, but it wasn't working well. He laughed, a low throaty sound, his hands tangling in my hair. My eyes shot open, then, and I saw the mistletoe hanging in the doorway. I smiled against his lips.

Pulling him away from the storefront, struggling to pull myself away from him at all, I found an opening to the woods where I pushed his back against a tall fir tree. The snow from the branches fell on top of my head, covering the front of his coat, but I didn't really notice. I was still kissing him.

"Ladies first," I giggled against his neck as I touched the belt buckle, kissing him again. His lips were frozen, unmoving, and he wasn't breathing. He was staring at me.

But he wasn't staring at me, he was staring _past_ me. Somewhere in his mind he was with Marsha or Maria, or whoever the hell had been the last woman to get that close to him. I _knew_ him, I knew everything, but I didn't know what he was thinking in that moment. Even though he had decided to be with me forever, he hadn't decided to move any closer.

"Not..." he sighed. "Not tonight. Let me be a gentleman tonight." He moved his hand across my face, tracing my cheekbones, making me close my eyes to truly feel it. He held my head between his hands like he was holding the world. I knew then that he was not saying 'no', he was _actually_ saying 'not tonight'.

Maybe I was being foolish asking him to be that spontaneous on that particular night. It had just seemed perfect, with the snowflakes on his eyelashes, and the cool metal buckle, and me feeling happier than I'd ever felt before. The burden, the hidden weight between us had been lifted. I knew that he would always come back, no matter what happened. No matter how ashamed he felt.

"Before I came to find you," he said, lips moving against my forehead, "I bought something for you. A gift, to show how much you mean to me. Even though sometimes I don't show it."

I laughed at the impossibility of that particular phrase.

"You bought me something with _my money_?" I asked instead, not wanting to argue. I'd rather joke than bring up something serious after all we'd been through.

"Yes," he said, and I could feel the smile against my right cheek. He was pressing his hands into my hair, and I smiled with him. "Silver hairpins," he explained. "Silver is neutral. Neither gold or red, neither black or white. I can always promise silver, even if I falter I can always promise silver."

But I knew different. I knew he could promise more. Even as he said silver, he was promising gold. He was promising a gold eyes, gold wedding bands, a future that I could truly reach out and touch.

"You can always promise gold, Jasper, you should know that..." but as I said this he kissed me again, running his lips over the top of my head.

All I heard was a muffled, "Merry Christmas".

_AN: Thanks for reading! Please tell me what you thought of the chapter. Or, if you just want to chat, PM me ^^. Remember that my livejournal is there for updates (www. iyeshana. livejournal. com) I also have some links to other important entries and things in my profile. On my deviant art page I have a cover for this story, as well as some other fanart. I am not evil. I love comments and conversations with people. My email is in my profile, just let me know that you're from . _

_I love reviews so much they are nearly giftwrapped. :)_


	7. Rewards

_AN: I know the beginning is rather slow, but you should be satisfied by the ending. :)_

Chapter Seven: Rewards

I had never had reason to speak of Jasper's scars, or to ask of them, until now.

We had been fine, a busier day than usual. I tried to focus on the visions while he took me window shopping, and he held my hand the whole time. It was funny to see how shrugged my hand away whenever somebody looked at us for too long. He was so easily embarrassed, yet so comforting at the same time. Deep in thought, he seemed to be distracting himself from the emotions of the people around him, and also the scents that clung to the fabric of our clothing.

Winter was a better time. An easier time. The cold weather meant that less people ventured into the icy streets, instead begging for hot chocolate and warm blankets. I know that he secretly loved to walk on the sidewalks, pretending he was just another face and not someone struggling internally more than they could bear.

Winter was much, much harder, too. It made us both crave the warm, liquid sin we were denied. And the substitution we'd been having was starting to get to him, slowly. The unhappiness hid behind his eyes as I watched each and every of his decisions to cheat. I kept stopping him.

On this day while we walked, I saw some hint of fresh anger and pain. I had kissed him, quick and chaste on the mouth. He had pulled me closer, and I ran my nose over his cheekbone as he lifted me up. The moment I kissed the scar below his ear he flinched. Flinched away from me, a low sound rising in his throat. Growling.

"Jasper," I began to say, but he was already searching for apologetic words. His decisions changed between leaving me, and fixing everything. He couldn't think of a proper phrase.

"I'm...It's...It's nothing, Alice." He breathed deeply, his eyes turning away from mine for an instant. "Sorry."

I mirrored his breathing. "The first secret. Momentous." He reeled from the sarcasm which dripped from my tone.

"It's not something I'm purposely keeping from you!" He argued. "I just think there are some things... that you wouldn't _want _to know."

"That's a lie, and you know it. I chose this. Everything that comes along with you is just another part that I want with me. I don't resent anything." I was thankful for the near-empty streets, for the eyes I wouldn't have to meet if he looked away from me again.

He grasped my fingers gently –always gently– and apologetically whispered, "I said I was sorry, and I meant that."

I stopped starting to forgive him, completely frustrated with how we both were behaving. It wasn't loving to beg for information as I was doing, but it also wasn't loving of him to deny me that information. I could see now that it was the key to everything—a make or break decision. "No, Jasper. If you were sorry you'd see that I'm trying to help you!"

He sighed and we both stood there for a moment, a thousand moments, waiting for the other to say something. He was worth the pain I felt right now, worth all of my effort and his combined. I could almost feel him reminding himself of this, too, as if he needed a reminder to continue to exist. He squeezed my hand and then let it go, so quickly that I only felt the air that caressed my fingers after his absence. I had to consciously tell myself not to worry–he was still standing there.

And then, as if I'd been waiting for the right moment, I slid into his arms and rested my head against his chest. He wasn't surprised or concerned, just accepting of how hopeless I felt. We weren't meant to be this way. Not hoarding secrets, and definitely not hoarding secrets from each other. He had his past, I didn't have mine, and we always comforted each other through the unwelcome thoughts that was this burden and absence of burden. I knew when he was broken on the inside, and he knew when I wished I understood if I had been broken, or loved, or a coveted child.

But I didn't know what he was feeling right now.

I realized that it might be easier for him to tell me this way, holding me but not looking me in the eyes. I could see the visions of him finally breaking down, words forming on his pale lips. He contemplated this for a long time, trying to decide if I could handle whatever it is he was about to say.

"I assume you've heard of love marks, Alice." his voice was still dark, though his words retained some humour. Of course I'd heard of them. All the time.

I nodded, against his chest still, trying not to hear the crack in his voice. He was going to tell me something about Maria, now, I could feel it. I didn't even need to look in the future to know that. And as much as I knew he was right –that Maria was something I didn't always want to know about– it hurt me that he hadn't shared much about this part of his past.

He paused again, waiting to make sure I was calm before I continued. Knowing this, I tried to make my breathing more even, focusing on tranquil thoughts. When he was satisfied, he began to speak.

"Maria wasn't like you, Alice," he began, "She didn't work based on a system of honesty, she worked on a system of...rewards."

I knew what he was saying, then, and I could imagine the earlier years of his existence more clearly. I could see her embracing him, roughly kissing him..controlling him. My breathing hitched in my throat, and I swallowed the venom building.

"...If I pleased her," he said, barely whispering, "she would put on a passionate front. Pretend to love–to be anything she thought I wanted her to be. She would...she knew that spot was my weakness. She longed to make me shudder."

I tried not to wince at those words, but it was impossible. He knew it bothered me anyway. He could feel it. But even stronger than my desires for him to stop speaking were my desires to know how my actions had bothered him.

"If I displeased her," he continued, "there were methods of punishment used. She would pretend everything was normal, try to entice me, and then cause me a great degree of pain. That spot was the one she would use. She scarred it with her own teeth, and she called it a love mark."

I considered this for a while. It was difficult to see Jasper as being easily swayed by this woman –certainly not to the point where she would control him like this. But if there was any reason for his hesitation towards me –towards anyone– this could be it. To think that he was taken advantage of in a way such as this was horrifying. Especially since she had claimed love.

It was a crime in the most extreme sense of the word to call what she did to him 'love'. A love mark, when he was already scarred inside and out because of her. If that was love, than I had no hope of becoming someone like that for him. There was no way I could torture him until he screamed and cried in agony. But she had. She had tortured a vulnerable, impressionable _child. _He was barely more than that when he was in her company. She had _used _him.

"Jasper I...I didn't mean to remind you of..." I felt myself pause as the word formed in my throat. _Maria. _The one thing he lived for, however long ago it was. And now I was the one who came after her.

He smiled grimly. "Alice, you couldn't remind me of her if you tried. It was the memory of a touch, not a...well I _guess_ you could call her a person. There is no comparison–no concrete analysis of the two of you I can make. I regret every day I spent with her."

I _knew _that he was telling me truth. There was no hint of him ever wanting to visit Maria in the future. No, he was going to be a part of our new family. We were going to be happy together –happier than we already were– and we were going to be _complete. _

I felt him disentangle himself from me, and the hesitation in his arms as he did so. The realization struck me again that we were in the middle of the sidewalk, and it was starting to rain. Just little drops, not a downpour, but it still comforted me that this rain was one I would be standing in with him.

He pulled my right hand in his left, spinning me towards him. We swayed a bit, a sort of dance as the rain picked up. He breathed deeply, the thick scent of water in both of our nostrils. I felt myself inhale, too, smelling the dirt from my skin as it was trapped in each drop of moisture. Everything smelt suddenly sweater, too, as if spring was that much closer.

I encouraged him to move his feet until he settled into a slow waltz with me. I found myself asking him when he'd learned to dance, and he just shook his head slowly, moving it back and forth until his whole body was telling me he never had learned. That was a funny thing, because I had never learned either. Or if I _had, _I didn't remember it now. Dancing was just something you did when the world was telling you to. When someone up _there _had pulled you with them, attaching strings to you and conducting your movements. It was just our nature, every being's nature to move along with them. I didn't think we were required to learn how.

"I guess I danced a bit when I was human," he said slowly, closing his eyes while he moved now. "For parties, or when girls were fond of a soldier such as myself. I asked Maria to once, maybe not in so many words but..." he trailed off and I knew what he was saying. She liked other kinds of fun.

But _we _were dancing, something he seemed fond of. I enjoyed dancing with him quite more than with myself, if I was being completely honest. Even if I wasn't being honest, it would be obvious by my body language which I enjoyed better.

I mirrored Jasper's actions, closing my eyes softly and concentrating on the feeling of rain trailed from the crown of my head to my shoes. Each drop felt like a warm, human finger on my skin. It was an unusual, comforting sensation.

Jasper was considering taking me to a hotel room so I could bathe. It was a decent idea, since it was hard to exist around humans with the current state of our clothes and skin. And I had a feeling he needed the time to think, to choose, without having me drag him around anywhere.

"To a hotel it is," I declared, unaware of having decided the entire thing myself. It was his decision, but in the end I was the one making it.

He laughed softly, pressing his lips into the part of my hair. "I'm still not quite used to having you say things like that, based upon visions of what I 'decide.'"

When he put it like that, the entire notion was preposterous. But I didn't think of it like that.

He was the one pulling _me _for once, down the streets past all kinds of men and women carrying umbrellas or just trying to bear the 'cold' rain. Some of them would spare a glance, either repelled by the grime on us or entranced by Jasper's beauty. I giggled as a man stared at him for a good two or three minutes, turning his head completely backwards as he walked down the street. It seemed I wasn't the only one who could see beauty in him.

"This one," he said softly, pointing to a brick, shabby looking motel. Really, shabby was all we could afford at this point, but we could have easily snuck into a room at a wealthy hotel. No problem. But if this was where he wanted to stay, we would stay here. I nodded casually, trying to take money out of my coat pockets to go to the desk and pay.

He stopped me, pulling a fistful of bills out of his own pocket. "No, Alice. I have money." he lowered his voice, breathing into my ear. "I accumulated some funds from the people I killed while in the military. And I had no use for money, then."

Of course he would say something like that. But he had his mind made up, so I didn't even feel the need to object. It wouldn't cost much, certainly. Still, I felt my face melt into a grimace and my anxiety began to rise. I always liked buying things, because I enjoyed to watch the person's face when they served you: a mixture of shock and awe.

"Now, now, darlin', don't look at me like that. I'll just pay and then we can get ourselves cleaned up, alright? You just sit tight." I smiled at his words, then, and found a seat by some semblance of a front desk.

I couldn't sit still, though, and found myself fidgeting uncomfortably in the chair, counting things like paint strokes on an abstract flower and cracks in the wall. I counted to thirty as quickly as I could in what I suspected was Spanish. And then he was done.

"We're number thirteen," he said, lifting an eyebrow. I shuddered, trying to fit my hand in his while reserving some of the calm inside of me. He could feel all of my anticipation certainly, rising off me in forbidden ways.

He squeezed my hand in a warning to calm down, and I did slow my breathing. I could have sworn that I felt my heart squelch in my chest that moment, beating one fast, surrendering beat. It accepted that it belonged to someone else, now, and shouldn't even be in my body. I smiled in spite of myself, barely realizing that he had opened the door with the tiny key, and that we were now both inside.

I watched as if out of body while he turned the knob on the bathtub and put the plug in. The water spluttered in the pipes, and then came out in a short burst. In its own time the water began to fill the vessel, smelling slightly of rust and possibly mould. But it was cleaner than either of us right now.

Without even thinking I filled up the sink with water, pulling my dress over my head and submerging it in the water. I started to scrub the dirt off when I realized Jasper was still in the room, staring blankly at the water with his back hunched over. I had made a mistake, I realized, and quickly tried to correct it with words.

"Oh, Jasper, it's okay. I can leave, or you can," I murmured, "Please don't look so abashed. I just needed to wash this, you know?"

He nodded, keeping his head down.

Satisfied, I continued to wash the dress and then hanging it over the edge of the tub. Jasper covered his eyes so he couldn't see me in the reflection. It almost made me laugh. I was a little embarrassed, but then remembered that he wasn't _innocent. _With all his talk of Maria and _rewards, _I hadn't thought he would be so ashamed of a female body.

"I'll be out there, Jasper, after you get cleaned up," I whispered, impressed by my confidence, walking to the other room wearing only my shift. I didn't feel as exposed as I expected, but probably only because I'd exposed every ounce of my character and emotion to him already. He knew everything that I was and wished I was.

I could hear him in the bathroom, still, the faint sound of the water hitting the side of the tub. I wondered if he was bathing or washing clothes, or if he was just sitting there. I had no idea, really, and I didn't want to look ahead.

I sat myself on the bed, thinking about what would become of us. I'd seen the ring that he'd decided to buy, but only because he thought I wanted to be like a human girl. A human girl who was engaged, just like any other. But in truth I knew he thought it was just a formality, and didn't really understand what it would mean if he _did _ask me. I wanted to marry him more than anything. Even if we didn't marry, I would love it if he put in the effort to ask me.

I knew that my soon-to-be-sister Rosalie was married. I knew all of the Cullens, actually. Not so far as to know their interests or the like, because I didn't look at their futures much. But I did know that she was married, as well as the mother-figure Esme. Edward was the only unmarried one, and he would probably not take well to another pair moving in. But I could see him liking Jasper when we eventually met up. And, of course, Edward would be the best friend I ever had!

"Alice?" I heard a meek-sounding voice from behind the bathroom doorway, and I could only assume it to be Jasper. "Do you want me to bring the dress for you? It's not quite dry, but I'm sure it'll—"

"No, Jasper, it's alright." _I really want you to just come here, already, _I said angrily in my head. _I'm sick of you moping in the bathroom. _

He walked out slowly, averting his eyes from me completely. When I sighed with frustration he _did _look at me. But only my face, of course, not even a glance at the rest. I sat up, cross-legged on the bed. He did a strange thing, taking off his boots and laying them reverently by the bed before taking off his shirt.

Then he handed it to me.

He gave me a look as if to say, "Put it on" but I knew it wasn't "Put it on, I can't stand to look at you." It was his way of being polite, I supposed. Still a gentleman.

I murmured a word of thanks, and then he slipped into the bed beside me. It was then that I began to tell him –really tell him– about the family we were about to become a part of.

_AN: this was an extremely hard chapter to write. I've been very busy with school, and have been receiving emails from people -cough_yourself_cough- who think that I'm dead or otherwise incapacitated. No this story is not over, and it won't be for a while. I'm just busy and I don't have much time to write. Besides that, I had major writer's block. Even though I'm not satisfied with the beginning, I like the end. _

_Please review. We're almost past my review record for my other stories._


	8. White Lies

_AN: "Oh the times, they are a changin'" This is a very emotional chapter. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's a little summer gift from me to you. _

Chapter Eight: White Lies

----

_It was then that I began to tell him –really tell him– about the family we were about to become a part of._

----

I had told him every single thing I was able to tell.

I started at the beginning, when I had barely thought of a family at all.

There was a mother and a father, a sister and two brothers. I explained how they would understand why we were different. Most importantly, I told him that they would accept us.

That was the white lie:

I told him he would fit in there.

----

The father would love Jasper, because he was the most compassionate being I was capable of meeting. And I knew that he would be able to help Jasper in ways that my almost-husband could not even imagine. It was men like Carlisle -that was his name- that could reverse _years _wasted on Maria.

The mother, Esme, was almost childlike in the way she trusted and cared for everyone. I suspected that an orange-eyed young man would fit perfectly with her dreams of having a child.

Rosalie, the breathtaking blonde who would become our sister, could be Jasper's twin. Appearance wise, they were uncannily similar. But physically was where the similarities ended. She was a tad judgmental in nature, as well as quite absorbed in either herself or her new husband, Emmett.

Emmett was probably the most accepting individual I had not met, if that makes any sense. But if he was the accepting member of the family, he was also the most oblivious. He was interested in his own well-being, as well as general enjoyment in life. If he saw us as possible entertainment, then we were in. Most of my visions consisted of him and Rosalie..._together._

And then there was Edward. He was the musician and the thinker. His facial expressions were that of a statue, shaped to provoke thought. He reminded me of an artistic version of Jasper, because they were both philosophical beings.

And, until recently, they had both lived very solitary lives. If it wasn't for me finding Jasper, he would probably be in a library somewhere, trying to find himself. That was what Edward had always done, and that's what he's doing now.

The single, white lie had made years of difference to me. Visions could tell me of how I would interact with them, but nothing of Jasper.

He was a little bit restless lately, shifting in the visions and difficult to predict. Usually he was calm and collected, moving in the direction he was expected to. He was moving on a different frequency from me, tilting away at all the wrong times. It made me tired and dizzy; all human ailments that shouldn't affect me.

He decided to speak.

"You know all about them?" He asked, like he already knew the answer. "Tell me if they're emotional wrecks, if they can handle themselves. Are they like the teenagers they pretend, or cautious adults? Are they missing pieces on the inside?"

It was understandable that he'd be concerned. He had to deal with 'emotional wrecks' every single day of his existence. Truthfully, they were all the worst sort of shaken people you could imagine. Carlisle was consumed with medical procedures, escaping to work so he wouldn't have to face things he couldn't handle. Esme was filled with the longing for a child, and the constant mourning for the child that had escaped her. Emmett tried to be the happiness Rosalie could not be, while Rosalie begged every non-existent force she could think of for just one baby. And when she didn't get the infant, she took her anger out on Edward. He wrote symphonies of sadness; melancholy melodies.

I told another white lie, seeing in a quick vision how Jasper would be their calm–their solution. "They're perfect, Jasper, a model family. No issues or messes. They're going to be your clean slate."

He smiled, wrapping his arm under my back. He spun me around until I was lying on his stomach, the bed sheets twisting me like a cocoon. I laughed lightly, my tongue buzzing. I leaned closer to him, running my hand through his hair, smelling it and watching the flourescent light make it shine white. The curls practically twisted themselves around my fingers.

I watched as he closed his eyes, completely and totally relaxed. Though we'd been alone the whole time, it was that moment when I felt we were completely alone. We were lost in ourselves.

I moved my hand across his forehead, my fingers trailing down into his brow. It didn't furrow upon contact like I'd expected. I cupped his cheek, and ran my short nails over every possible scar. They were each a pattern, displaying the reason for his silence to everyone. I felt his lips; the prominent indentation between them growing as they parted. The barest of stubble coated his jaw line, and in sparse, random arrangements on his cheeks. Pale, invisible hairs moving as the air conditioning circulated a breeze throughout the room.

He breathed two soft words, which I almost missed in my trance, _"my Alice..."_ It was not that he understood, though, how true those words were. They weren't white lies, not even remotely an untruth. From the start I had been completely his, to the point where I was internally begging for him to think of me as his. He spoke aloud my emotion. Surrender.

I counted to five, waiting for the feeling to dissipate. _Three. Two. One._ It was still there, the complete content atmosphere. It was his, I realized, pouring onto me. It was very difficult to make the distinction, though, because I hadn't felt happier.

I leaned my head forward, feeling my hair brush his cheek. His eyes opened slightly, like a child who's awoken from a pleasant dream. He lazily smiled, the corner of his mouth dimpling. Our lips touched, quickly and hesitantly. He exhaled, and I felt the vision flood me with more certainty than any other I had experienced.

It wasn't shocking, knowing what to expect, knowing what he wanted. We were both the type of people to hide it, though, so neither of us knew with complete conviction.

He knew I knew.

And I knew he knew I knew.

His eyes shot open, wide with panic and fear. We were both afraid of the expectations upon us, so the mood immediately shifted. I felt on edge, like I imagined the deer feeling before I ended its life. He was about to end one phase of my life and begin another–and that was a frightening thing.

"Alice?" His voice was breathless, so I kissed him again. It was my final prayer that the indecision would leave us both. "I don't think I can," he said, "I just can't do this."

I smiled, prepared for his response. "I'm a psychic," I murmured. "You already _did._"

----

I don't remember feeling any different after the moment was over, I just remember feeling like I didn't want to leave. There was a part of me that wanted to stay in the hotel forever, dismissing the maids and room services. I felt like we had forever, when in reality we only had a few short days. After that, the visions would get hazy, and I couldn't stand to lose the Cullens.

"Alice...," Jasper sighed from beneath me. "You weren't about to leave, were you?" He chuckles slightly, pulling his arms a fraction tighter. And I hadn't thought that would be possible.

"It's not that I _want _to, really," I said, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, "it's just that it's time, now."

"It's time, is it?" he laughed lightly again when I nodded. "Fine, then, it's time."

He unwrapped me from the blanket and lifted me onto his back, piggy-backing me to my bag. "I don't really want to let you go," he admitted, "but I think you'd be furious if I picked out your clothes for you."

I smiled. Saying he knew me too well would be an understatement.

He knocked on the bathroom door once I'd pulled all my stuff inside. I huffed loudly, stifling the giggles rising in my throat.

"It's a formal occasion!" he said.

"We have to get a move on, Jasper, I don't have time for this! If we're not at the train station tonight... well I don't know _exactly _what will happen, but.."

I held the tea length dress in my arms, still waiting for some decent form of explanation.

"Spontaneity, Alice?" I could hear the smile in his voice. "Do you want to go dancing with me? There's a small dance in the park, and I really think you'd enjoy it."

I saw a flash of Jasper hunting in the woods, eyes nearly golden again as we entered the park. I saw us dancing to the slow, building rhythm.

"I think we will enjoy it very much," I said honestly, stepping into the bath. "Any chance you need to clean up before we leave? I'm not about to waste the hot water."

It was only a moment before I saw the door open, his eyes closed for a moment while he internally made the decision to open them. The gentleman still had to make sure I was serious before stepping into the bathwater, gently scrubbing shampoo into my scalp.

----

"Don't think I have no sense of privacy, Jasper Whitlock. There are times when I need to be alone to dress, and fix my hair, and have the 'human' moment that most girls get. It may not matter much to _you, _but I expect the deer would appreciate being mauled by someone who had the time to get dressed as opposed to an angry monster. You don't want them to be scared, do you?"

"Heaven forbid," he said, his eyes wide with honesty.

----

"Surprise," he whispered. I shuddered at his breath on my ear, a bit shocked at how that managed to affect me, even after all that had occurred in the last few days. I noticed that there was no dance in the park, no bands playing or lights, or the sweet smell of a blushing girl's cheeks.

I pouted a little, acting childish but a bit disappointed that there was no dance. I hadn't been too enthusiastic about going into public with Jasper again, but now that I did I was expecting a dance.

"Well I did say it was a _small _dance." he laughed breathlessly. It was really irresistible.

I hummed as I listened to the distant music from a shop. It was a romantic, jazzy song. Those were my favourites. "I like the music, Jasper. It could be a dance out here."

"That's what I was hoping," he said reverently. "It seems that other people are being quite romantic, so I felt the need to dote on you. But, darlin', if I could take you dancing forever, I would."

I nodded. "And I'd love to be the one you took dancing." I reached and held his hand, feeling the glow of life that radiated from him. It was a sin to think that he had lost hope in the word 'life'. We both just stood there for a moment, staring at each other. It wasn't at all uncomfortable, it was just nice how he payed so close attention to my every movement, and my flickers of emotion.

"I've been wondering what it is that attracts you to these Cullens," he said cautiously. "They seem very nice, don't get me wrong, I just wonder what it is about them that you wish to become a part of."

They were the most human that it's possible for a vampire to be. They loved life, and they needed my love for life to keep them going. They were soulful and beautiful, kind and compassionate. They lived as a family, a _married _couple with children.

"I just want..." I searched for the words. "I just need their unity. It would do wonders for you–I know that we could do wonders for them..."

He shook his head, the smile leaving his face. "I know you want something else, something more than that. I can feel how you want to be more human, less of some sort of monster."

"You're misreading me, Jasper," I clarified. "I want to marry you.. I want to ask you to marry me. I can see it's going to happen, and it's killing me! I don't know much about marriage, but I know that it's something I want. Something you'll want, hopefully, because I really _love _you."

He smiled lightly, just that same little dimple in the corner of his mouth. "You're talking a mile a minute, darlin', I can't get a word in edgewise. Since you are the psychic you say you are, then you must know that the night starts with dancing, not so much talking."

He pulled me in, and we steadily swayed. He lifted his arm to twirl me, until we established the perfect rhythm. "Then, I was going to pull this out of my pocket, tell you how much I love you, and then kiss you. Just a peck, mind you, because the lust rolling off you in waves like that is a little bit too much for me to handle."

I stared and stared at the tiny, gold ring. It had a single diamond in the centre, and two even tinier ones around it. It was the one I'd seen him buying a few days before, when we'd started talking about Valentine's Day. It was very, very beautiful.

"How's the fit?" he asked, slipping it on my finger while I continued to stare.

It fit perfect, like I had known it would. It was sometimes troublesome knowing these things, especially since he had gone to a serious amount of trouble to make it a surprise. My silent, elated response was enough to make him feel relieved, now, so I contentedly wrapped my arms around his waist.

"You do know that this means I'll have to buy _you_ a ring, right? I can't have you walking around a bachelor." I smiled lightly.

"No, that would be horrifying," he said, half-serious. "Especially when I have a beautiful woman to dance with me in the park, even when there's barely any music."

I listened, but he was right, the music had long since died down for the night.

"I believe that this woman should be called your fiancé," I said, more than slightly proud of this fact. "Yes, I do think that's the term being used nowadays."

He began to slowly dance with me again. "We must keep with the times."

----

_AN: Imagine, me producing a chapter during exam week! Well, most of it was written before, but that's besides the point. I hope you enjoyed the love-scene, as I tried not to make it torturous or inappropriate, but I thought the timing was right. _

_Please review__. It's the only thing I ask for when I write this for you. If you_'_re anonymous, it would be nice if you could include an email address for me to get back to you with. _

_Thanks. :)_


	9. Twins

_AN: this chapter is a little.. Crazy. I hope it's not too out-there for you._

_Apologies for not updating quickly, but I had major writer's block. _

_Chapter inspired by the song _Tiny Vessels _by _Death Cab for Cutie_, but maybe not in the way you think! _:D

----

Chapter Nine: Twin

I hadn't had a vision of the Cullens in days, now. I had bought Jasper his ring, and with that all of our future with them vanished, pulled out of the air. It came to the point where each day began with me convincing myself things would end the way they were supposed to.

"I want to take your name," I told him one day, looking through my old belongings from...before.

"When we get married, I mean. I want to be a Whitlock."

He smiled. "I hoped as much. What name'll I be changin'?"

I frowned slightly, peering into my hands. I was holding dark navy fabric that had been the first outfit I remember having. It had been with me for a long time, and had the stains to show for it.

Over the breast pocket was nothing close to a name, but instead a series of numbers, in no specific order.

"I'm not sure, Major. My name is 0517309." I closed my eyes, inhaling the stench of it. Having never felt the need to wash it, I could clearly smell not only animal blood, and the blood of humans I'd killed, but blood of a human I assumed to be myself. The human part of me had died wearing this very piece of cloth. I threw it back into the bag, shuddering.

His eyes, golden as the ring on his finger, narrowed slightly. He sensed how uncomfortable I was, but knew that trying to comfort me would make me even more upset. "Then where did the name Alice come from?"

It was that moment that I felt falsified, nothing short of a fraud. "It was just what I remember being called, in what little memory I have left. My only recollection is my name." There was that _voice, _the faint whisper, the laughter, and _Alice. _Just Alice, as if that name could truly guide me anywhere true memories could not.

He was silent, as he often was when at a loss for words. I could feel the blanket of calm wrap itself around me, lulling me into a dreamlike state. It was comforting, as Jasper always made me feel –whether he was using his abilities or not.

It was his arms that wrapped around me, then, as he pulled me close for just an instant."Alice..," he murmured, his lips touching my shoulder lightly. "You need never degrade yourself to a _number. _You will always be _Alice, _my love...my_ wife_, soon. And it is everything about you that has saved me, numbers or names aside."

----

"_Carlisle," Rosalie said, her mouth pursed tightly, "I need to have a word with you."_

"_Of course. What's the matter?" His voice was layered with concern, whereas hers was very tight and clipped._

"_Emmett and I were out shopping for the wedding this morning, and we heard some rumours that sounded like other vampires. The usual –pale faces, intimidating, beautiful– and people were talking about them like crazy, which makes me believe that they were close." _

"_Moncton?" he asked. _

_She nodded. _

"_I really don't think there is cause for concern," he said, almost nonchalantly. "Try not to think about it when Edward comes home from the hospital–it might upset him. Remain calm, and I'll look into this if the need arises."_

_She closed the door to his study._

_----_

"I don't understand," Jasper said, "I thought you said Rosalie and Emmett were _already _married." he furrowed his brow slightly as we settled on the bed.

"They were." I frowned. "I guess Rosalie was talking about the bridal shop we visited just yesterday. Was it in Moncton?"

"Yes, New Brunswick," he said. "That means they must be close, in that province at the very least. Maybe their permanent residence is there."

I started, thinking for a moment. "We should go back. If this was a vision of the future, Rosalie and Emmett are probably just arriving in the shop. We can try to meet them there, or find information in order to follow them."

He looked at me anxiously, taking my hand. He ran his thumb over my ring, smiling to himself, and then smiling at me. It was a vow to me, the smile, that he would go where I thought we should, no matter what.

We were joined –connected– long before he had asked me to be his wife. Rather, before I had _seen _him ask me to be his wife. I had been as devoted to him as a wife the moment I saw him. My first vision of him, trudging through the thick drops of rain, was my first taste of what some humans call _heaven. _I revered him.

And, if it was possible, he also viewed me that way. As something to cherish, despite every visible flaw. When he could have had Maria –who seemed to be the picture of beauty– he chose _me_. Or perhaps it was that he allowed _me _to choose _him. _Now he was allowing himself to be put in an awkward situation, with people he didn't know or trust. I was assuring him that I would be there, a person to trust, even if there was no one else.

----

He sighed deliberately as I climbed on his chest, a smirk on his pale pink lips. "_Again, _Alice?" he laughed at his own sarcasm. "Such torture you put me through, darlin'."

"I didn't say anything about christening our new bed. I merely wanted to produce a fashion show of sorts."

"We've christened several beds," he said casually. "Three on our travels, and one when we were here yesterday, although we were in a different room."

"Hmm.." my sigh matched his own. "But rooms in hotels all look the _same_, so we shouldn't be counting them as different rooms."

He smiled brightly. "Agreed. Now, on with the show.."

I climbed off him, taking my time measuredly until the rumble in his throat was more pronounced. Then I began my search through shopping bag after shopping bag until I found the one I was looking for, a smaller bag filled with white tissue paper. There was some bridal lingerie in there which he was most definitely _not _allowed to look at, and another couple I'd bought as a treat for him, to test the idea.

His impatience was stretching onto me.

"Aren't you going to allow me to slip into something more comfortable?" I asked, showing him just a glimpse of the nightgown I was holding behind my back.

He laughed, but the sound had an edge of tension. "Your state of dress hasn't stopped you before." His breath hitched. "And you aren't really wearing any clothes."

I looked down at what was left of what was a newly purchased dress. The long destroyed satin, torn at the seam as he had tried to take it off me, and settled for tearing it open. It was also split up the side, covering nothing but the remainder of a slip.

"True, but this won't take long," I said. "Besides, I've been saving this as a special.. _gift _to you, and I know you'll like it." I winked, and his chest heaved in a visible shudder.

"I thought we got over your shyness getting dressed," he murmured as I moved towards the washroom.

"It was _your _shyness when I dressed," I said, laughing. "Besides, it's all about the final, dazzling effect." I was hoping he'd like it as much as I'd seen. The Jasper in my vision had been smug with satisfaction to see me wearing his favourite colour.

The nightgown was made of a light burgundy tricot, with creme lace around the bodice and sleeves. The sleeves were short, and fluttered as the air circulated through the small space. It was very long and graceful looking.

What most attracted me to the dress was the contrast –the creme and burgundy that mimicked our changes in eye colour– but what I liked about it most was the long, satin ribbon that I tied into a bow at the back. There was nothing on clothing I liked more than ribbons, bows, and lace.

For a moment, just a moment, I stood in front of the mirror slightly insecure. It was a very sheer dress. And by sheer I mean completely see-through. Despite its modesty in style, it left almost nothing to the imagination.

But what had I to hide from Jasper? He'd already seen me nude, and I'd seen him the same. Why was it that now I was feeling slightly tired, slightly ashamed of myself? My curves were... nonexistent, and I was _tiny. _It was hard, knowing that the woman who had modelled this dress was a beautiful curvy woman, with legs that seemed to stretch on forever.

And here I was, holding it up because it was so long I was tripping on it.

When I stepped out, I heard his breath hitch in his throat, a slow calming smile spreading over his face as a similar tranquillity spread over me. I immediately forgot my concerns. "Well, look who got herself all dolled up," he drawled, eyes shining.

"I guess you like it, then?" I half-asked, feeling satisfied.

He closed his eyes, and I felt a blast of his passion where he let go of his emotions. The lust and heat was overwhelming until he opened his eyes again.

"_I do," _he whispered fervently, before pulling me onto the bed. His smile turned smug when he heard me giggle that the phone was ringing.

"Then you can answer it," he whispered. "I don't think I'm ready to talk on the phone."

"Hello?" I asked, giggling as Jasper ran his hands onto my feet. I'd never thought vampires could be ticklish before.

A soft voice that came across as very sultry answered on the other end. _"Jasper Whitlock, please," _she said, in a very bored manner. She clearly was not one to be bothered with me. The strangest thing was how she spoke quietly, in a way that vampires would converse with each other. A human voice normally sounded like a shout in my ears.

I looked at the receiver skeptically for a moment, and then handed it to Jasper. He looked at it quizzically before I said, "It's for you."

"Maria?" he breathed, eyes darting around the room. It was like he expected her to suddenly appear, hands locked around his throat.

"_Mmm, you recognized me," _she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. She laughed musically and I shivered. I watched with wary eyes as his hands shot instinctively to the scar by his mouth. I shut my eyes.

"Yes," he said, all business, and then muttered, "Unfortunately" under his breath.

"_Oh Jasper," _she said, her words stroking him, all sensuality and clever phrases. _"You don't need to be like that!"_

He growled slightly, and moved to hold me closer to him. "I'd appreciate it if you never bother me again. I'm hanging up the phone."

"_No!" _she shouted, and then more calmly said, _"Please listen. I just want to visit you once more. I miss you dearly, and you're quite close to where I'm standing."_

He sharply inhaled, eyes darting once again.

"_Relax!" she laughed. "I'm only at the front desk."_

I gasped, seeing a vision of the receptionist falling to the floor with a thud, blood pooling around his neck. It was a small mercy that it was late and not many people were roaming the halls.

Jazz massaged his temple, speaking as calmly as he could manage. "If you come near this room, I swear–"

"_Protecting something, Jasper?" _she purred. _"Someone?"_

He slammed the phone down, looking at me with fierce eyes. "Listen to me, Alice, she is _dangerous. _Everything I've told you before is just a fraction of what she is capable of!" He started to continue his statement, but was cut off by three firm knocks on the door.

"Room service," Maria said slyly, and I heard the sharp slam of the door hitting the wall as she threw it open. The metal door knob -which had been locked- rolled across the floor to the foot of the bed. "Oh, I'm sorry! Was I interrupting anything?"

"If I say yes will you leave?" Jasper said through gritted teeth. "You were actually interrupting me and my fiancé christening this mattress."

She looked at me then, red eyes piercing mine in a way that made me shiver. It was a strange sensation, one that vampires didn't usually experience. "It seems you do have something in common with me," she said. "Jasper and I were quite involved. The difference of course is that we didn't often make it to a bed, and that we were both unclothed."

Her mockery at my nightdress burned inside me. I imagined that if I could have blushed, my face would have been tomato red. I raised my arms to my chest, crossing them to cover my breasts more completely. Jasper began to button his shirt, and I crawled to the end of the bed to grab his jeans, which he pulled on under the sheets.

She kneeled by the bed, peeking under covers. "There's no sense getting dressed for me, Major. I don't know about you, but I _certainly _remember being close to you. You don't need to be shy."

He ignored her completely. "As I just said, This is my _fiancé,_" he hissed. It sounded like he was marking a territory or something–I'd never seen him this way. "If you feel the need to introduce yourself to her, go ahead and shake hands."

I held out my hand first, giving her a cold stare. "Alice," I said, waiting for her to clasp my hand. She just stared at it.

"It's a pleasure, Alice. I've heard nothing about you, of course, but I see that Jasper's _type _hasn't changed much. You could be my twin." She raised an eyebrow and he growled.

"Out. Now." He said, hands shaking as they gripped the mattress.

She shook her head, tutting. "That's impolite," she said, her voice turning deep. "Aren't you going to ask how I found you?"

He leapt off the bed, crouching, teeth bared. I followed him, but placed a hand on his chest. "I don't think that's necessary, Jazz, perhaps we should give her the benefit of the doubt."

She smiled, and it reminded me of a cat staring at a mouse. "Why, Alice, I believe we could have a long, prosperous relationship." I caught her quickly darting her tongue from her mouth, and I gripped Jasper's hand anxiously.

Jasper's chest rumbled again, redirecting the attention. "I'll humour you. How did you find us?"

She laughed, and though it may sound attractive, very beautiful, I now knew the hidden intentions she had with every single bell-laugh. She settled on the arm of a large cushioned chair, propping her leg up on the top of it and looking at us upside down.

She hummed. "Well, let's just say that some of your friends aren't so quiet about your travels. And some of the humans are very interested in the boring lives of two _engaged _vampires. Word travels quickly when you know what to search for." she smiled, her eyebrows lowered darkly.

This was.. strange. Was it possible for us to be so obvious that not only Rosalie and Emmett, but _Maria_ spotted us? It seemed an impossibility, or _would_ have seemed just months ago. Jasper and I had never commanded attention before!

Jasper was growing impatient for the second time that night, and for a completely different reason. "Please just tell us why you're here, and spare us the unnecessary details."

She tsked again, moving to trail a hand down his chest. Jealous and upset as I was, there was nothing I could do to interfere. I remembered his words that she was dangerous, and his silent prayer that I be careful not to anger her. "Why, Major, is that any way to speak to a woman?" Her voice was mock dismay.

"You've long been disowned of the title 'woman', in my mind," Jasper said firmly. I almost felt bad for her, as clearly her applications of sexual talent were getting her nowhere tonight.

Her voice took on a new tone. "I understand that I'm a monster, Jasper Whitlock, and I made you one too. I came here tonight making sure you remember every moment that I made you the _damn _monster you are. And subjecting her to being with you? That's cold."

It was my turn to step up, now.

"He's the kindest man I've ever met," I said faintly. "And I know everything that's happened between you, so don't think for a moment that it's going to scare me off! I also know everything he's said about you: that you're shallow and insensitive, and that you care about nothing other than yourself."

She pursed her mouth, thinking for a moment. "How wonderful that he knows everything about me. I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not for him."

Jasper let out a long, exasperated sigh. "I'm quite sick of this, Maria. I escaped you. The least you could do to repay me would be to leave us to our lives. Alice and I are getting married, we want a family. There is nowhere in that plan that includes you."

The theatrical quality left her voice, and I finally got a glimpse into the Maria who Jasper had spent such a long time with, who he had come to revere in that time. "I understand," she whispered, turning towards the door. This time, she held out her hand to me and I shook it. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Alice, but I won't expect an invitation in the mail."

Before I had time to say the same to her, she was gone from the room. It was my turn to wrap my arms around Jasper, watching quietly as he closed his eyes. Then, slowly, dry sobs shook his body and mine, until they swallowed every ounce of his memory of her. It was hard, seeing the very ghost you feared appear to haunt you, even if it was for the last time.

"She was wrong," he said softly, lifting my chin. I could see that a heavy weight was lifted from his shoulders, seeing her leave. "You are _nothing_ like her."

----

_AN: thanks for reading, once again. I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter, so please __**review**__ to say what you honestly thought of it. I'll have a link to Alice's dress in my profile, and a new poll which I need you to vote in as soon as possible. _

_Do you like Maria? Yes? No? I'm not sure whether to keep her around, or just jump to the Cullens. Let me know your thoughts._

:D


	10. Rehearsal

_AN : this is the final chapter of the fic. Sorry to end it so soon, but it just seemed like the right time and place to end it! I think it will please you :)_

Chapter Ten: Rehearsal

I wasn't sure why Maria didn't pursue us. Perhaps it was a bruised ego, or a bit of hurt pride. I was still very upset at what she had put me through -and more importantly, what she put Jasper through- but I still felt a little bit of sadness for her. If I was in her position, desperate and missing him, I wouldn't be able to have him throw me out like he threw her out. It would be...devastating.

But I could not bring myself to pity her for one moment.

She was terrifying -everything I had feared, and more. She was the exact source of my soon-to-be-husband's fears, and that made her my fear as well.

I shivered as a flash of her leaving our hotel room hit my eyes.

And, oh, it chilled me to the bone.

----

It wasn't hard to locate the Cullens after a little bit of intuition. I discovered that Moncton was in New Brunswick, a province we'd been in just days ago. Another vision showed me that Rosalie was packing her belongings, determined to convince Carlilse that they should move far away. She was afraid that some vampires -namely myself and Jasper- were trailing them. Which was true, really.

The Cullen's house was beautiful and wide, two storeys tall. It could be classified as a small mansion in my opinion, and deserved that rank. It was made of dark stained wood on the outside, and had large windows which were faintly tinted. There were trees surrounding the house to help hide it, such that it was more difficult to locate, even with psychic abilities.

Jasper's eyes were wary, but they brightened as we walked towards the front door. I wasn't sure whether it would be a good idea to knock, but I figured that's what the lion door-knocker was for. I searched for Jasper's hand and found it quickly before I knocked just a simple three times.

There was no answer, no movement inside. There was no trace of laughter or conversation. Images of them running flashed through my mind. "They're hunting," I said, a little bit disappointed. Jasper started to move back towards the road. "No, wait," I said, "It's perfect. We can throw a surprise party!"

"I don't think that would make much sense even if they did know us. We should just leave, darlin', and give them some space." He tugged on my hand, trying to pull me with him.

"No, Jazz, It'll be fine. I know they'll come back, and they'll get used to us. It won't bother them that we're here." I smiled as angelically as I could manage, knowing he wouldn't be able to control himself. "They'll love us."

He shook his head. "I know that I would never have a good feeling about someone else being in my home.. Why should they feel any different?"

I smiled at him, the most reassuring grin possible. "Because we're not just _anybody, _Jazz."

----

_[Jasper]_

There was anger, hostility, contempt, horror, shock, regret...everything. The moment we stepped into the house, and every moment since I have been bombarded with some of the most negative emotions I could ever think of experiencing. But, then, ifI thought far back enough, to the days before Alice saw me through the window of that dirty café–the days before she decided we were meant to be together–then I could remember much, much harder times. And it wasn't just Maria who had made these times terrible–it was myself as well. In this house, it was everyone else feeling the flurry of emotions, but not me. I was fine here. I was more than content, I was happy.

Besides the negative emotions, there were also plenty of the positive. There was the delight, energy, cheerfulness, love, and passion that always surrounded our new family. Sometimes it was almost unbearable how expressive they were of their love to each other, but it pleased me in ways I'd never experienced, and warmed me from head to toe.

And Alice...god, Alice was like nothing she'd ever been. She was a new person, completely and utterly transformed. It was like this family had completed her soul and now she was free to express every inch of her. And, when she was complete, I was as well.

After quite a bit of time in this household, you'd think I would get used to the quiet that had a way of following the day's confusion. In fact, quite the opposite. The quiet always had a way of leaving me breathless, where I had to sit and slowly listen to the sounds of..nothing. It was always this way after dusk, when the couples had taken to their rooms and Edward had gone to the hospital for study. The arguments were over, and the new day would not be for another few hours.

Alice had painted our room a beautiful sunny colour, pale yellow that brightened into gold when the sun flooded in. When it was dusk, the way it was now, the room seemed to shine a dim orange. The furniture was all dark brass and leather, looking like a watercolour painting as I walked through the door. I couldn't help but admire the ceiling, newly draped with pale fabric that floated down to canape our bed.

There she was, positioning the fabric, stood on tiptoe, her nightgown caressing her calves. She turned her head slightly, eyes brightening as she saw me, and she lost her concentration. The netting, silk, and tiny nails slipped from her fingers, bouncing off the bed and onto the floor. She didn't respond with the great frustration I expected.. It was almost as if she hadn't even noticed.

"Alice," I breathed, "What is this you've done?"

She smiled, eyes dimming from the lust before she said, "A surprise? See?"

I could see the nails littering the floor, and the way her eyes danced across my face like a greedy child. She wanted something more than just a canape for the bed, and she definitely wanted more than just the ring on her finger.

"Yeah I see," I whispered, swallowing hard. "It's beautiful, Alice. _You're _beautiful."

She grinned, then looked away, embarrassed. "An early wedding gift. I figured with the bed done up like this.. We could get some more use out of it.."

She was turning into quite the seductive lady, but if I thought back further she had always had a way of controlling me. "Then I don't think we should wait until after the wedding to try it out. What do you say?"

She narrowed her eyes slightly before pouncing from the bed into my eagerly awaiting arms. I toppled over, the white fabric ripping from a length of the ceiling as we hit the mattress. I heard her reluctant sigh as a bit of her work was ruined, but the feelings of frustration were quickly replaced by lust once again.

I slid the thin straps down her shoulders, feeling the familiar lace of the nightgown and then the more familiar smooth, smooth skin. She smelled like a bath, all vanilla lotion and lavender perfume. My skin must have felt so rough in comparison, and for a moment I pitied her. Then I realized that it was the nightgown I bought for her that she was wearing, and it was her choice to put it on. It was her gift to me decorating this room, and it was her that had said yes to me the first time, and a whole lot of times since.

And we were getting married in just a few days, god-willing she didn't back out by then!

"Jasper?" said the tiny girl underneath me, her chime voice never ceasing to send that chill down my spine. She had furrowed her eyebrows in a both confused _and _irritated fashion, which I found amusing more than anything else.

She reached up to pull at a lock of my hair, and then made quick work of the buttons on my shirt. I tried to kick off my boots but gave up, since she clearly wanted my attention to be on her–As if I didn't pay attention to her one hundred percent of the time! "This is all well and good, darlin'," she said, adding a bit more twang to her usual imitation of my accent, "but will you help me with some of these buttons? You know for gosh well sure that I'm not doin' all this work by myself!"

I smiled, closing my eyes to feel the only emotional climate of the room–her gentle love. "Of course, Alice. Whatever pleases _you_." she rolled her eyes at me, knowing I was getting just as much if not more enjoyment out of this than she was.

"Less talking, Mister Whitlock. This is our wedding night rehearsal, and you know as well as I do that there is no such thing as too much practice."

----

_AN: I've decided that this will be the end of the story. I haven't felt like writing any more for it, so rather than drag the story out and update a month or two from now, I decided to give you all the ending. It's been so wonderful writing Alice and Jasper's story that I didn't want writing the ending to be painful for myself, or painful to read. I don't want to finish it at a point that will make the writing process difficult, so that the end result is ruined. _

_For those of you expressing interest in a sequel, maybe there will be in due time. I can't say it will be soon, because I can't find a proper amount of inspiration, but you never know! If I do write their lives with the Cullens I will post an author's note here to let you know. _

_This is the final time I will ask you to please __**review. **__And look for more oneshots and short fics from me about Alice and Jasper in the future. _

_If you'd like to listen to my Alice and Jasper playlist that I wrote the story with, I can write the song titles in a review reply for you. _

_Thanks so much for reading and reviewing–that really makes it all worth it :)_


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